


It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

by Feroxai



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Courtship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, all the medieval rom com traits I can fit into this fic, no beta we die like Glenn, of the milder variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2020-09-06 18:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feroxai/pseuds/Feroxai
Summary: Felix paused. Sylvain wouldn’t get attached, he knew that. For one thing, Sylvain was only interested in girls. It didn’t matter if Felix was an omega. And besides, even if he did have feelings for him, Sylvain was famous for going through partners like clothes. Felix didn't want to be another notch on his bedpost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on the a/b/o system here: Only crest bearers can be alphas/omegas. Male alphas are the most likely to sire crest-bearers, female omegas are the most likely to birth them. Female alphas and male omegas can do both and are more likely to have crest babies than "beta" crest bearers. All Alpha/Omegas are very desirable and somewhat rare. No soulmates, but more compatible alphas/omegas smell nicer- this does not happen until one comes of age. Ruts and heats occur once a year, last a few days and only occur after sexual maturity. Most people enter isolation chambers by themselves or with a helper. Ruts/heats don't make you uncontrollable, but considerably needier and clingier. Ruts/heats can be suppressed for a period of time with medicine in the case of inconvenience, but it is not recommended to do so continually. Omega/Alpha quality of life is not much different from everyone else's. 
> 
> Very mild spoilers for Blue Lion pre-skip.

Felix had known he was an omega since he was a child. He supposed it would have meant more if Glenn hadn’t died, leaving Felix as their father’s sole heir.

As it was, his father could not bear to give his son more cause to hate him, and in an unprecedented move, allowed his son to be unattached for the majority of his childhood and adolescence.

Everyone knew Felix Fraldarius was extremely desirable on paper--fertile, strong, crested, rich and titled. The rumours said that he was extremely handsome too. But rumours also said that his tongue was sharper than his unmatched swordplay. His glare could cut ice. He held no one in high esteem- even the prince was not fit for his company.

Despite such rumours, Lord Rodrigue received countless proposals for Felix’s hand. He rejected all of them without much thought, but propriety meant that he could not turn the suitors away from his door when they exclaimed that they wanted to ‘befriend’ Felix.

Felix didn’t care he was an omega. He didn’t care that people wanted to marry him. But he did care when week after week, new annoying hopeful suitors would show up at his door asking him out for tea, insisting to accompany him to lunch or adamantly creepily watching him train. Of course, most of them ran with their tails between their legs once he’d ‘sparred’ with them. But for every imbecile that he cut down, two more would grow in their place, like some kind of twisted hydra.

“Those idiots won’t leave me alone. It’s like they don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

“They don’t,” scoffed Sylvain. “They see your identity and your crest as a prize to win. You should teach them a lesson.”

“I did. It’s not my fault they won’t leave me alone.” The men and women who left his father’s castle black and blue were legendary.

“No,” said Sylvain. His smile was sly. “I meant a different kind of lesson.”

Felix frowned and looked away from Sylvain, concentrating on attending to his sword instead. Sylvain had the opposite problem--he was an alpha noble, with a crest. Women chased him, and he enjoyed it. Or at least, he enjoyed playing with their feelings and breaking their hearts. He was like this since he turned sixteen, only a handful of years ago.

Felix thought it was thoughtless and crass of him. Needlessly cruel, even. But despite the lectures and scoldings he gave Sylvain, he couldn’t bring himself to condemn him fully for it, when he knew it was his friend’s way of coping with his family's heavy expectations and the vanity and shallowness that entrenched so many of his personal relationships.

But he didn’t want that for himself. He wasn’t the type to toy with others to feel a semblance of control. He glared at Sylvain. “Shut up. Not everyone is like you.”

Sylvain laughed and reached out with his broad hand to mess with Felix’s hair. “Come on, you know I was just joking.”

With his ears red, Felix wrestled his way out of Sylvain’s grasp. “Stop joking around and spar with me. You’ve been slacking off lately.”

It was hard to look away from Sylvain’s smile as he agreed and grabbed his lance.

\----

By the time Felix is sixteen, it’s unbearable. He had thought it was bad when he was younger, but it seemed that nobles only grew more and more stubborn as time went on. His father continued to reject all proposals. He could not stop the suitors from visiting Fraldarius, but he barred them from visiting Felix’s residential wing and the training grounds and stressed his displeasure against any unattached alphas approaching Felix without himself as a chaperone.

It meant Felix’s friends had to sneak around if there were visiting, lest the spurned nobles caught wind of exceptions to Lord Rodrigue’s rules. Visiting Gautier, Galatea and especially Fhirdiad became more and more difficult. Everyone wanted to annoy him. It was impossible to get any time by himself unless he was in his rooms or at the training grounds at Castle Fraldarius.

His father suggested many solutions--he could go to Garreg Mach Monastery a year earlier than planned, without Ingrid and Sylvain. It was uncouth for nobles to attempt to start a courtship while he was studying at the monastery, and the distance from the northern lords was a bonus. Although he wouldn’t admit it, the thought made him feel uneasy. He would have been fine by himself but he had been looking forward to spending some time with his friends. There was no doubt that they would better sparring partners than any of his other potential classmates.

Rodrigue also hesitantly shared the idea of moving him to the kingdom capital, as a companion for the boar. Though it would repel proposals like nothing else, Felix immediately refused. The capital was a cesspit of political machinations. Even though Rodrigue clearly wished he'd help the boar navigate it, Felix refused to reside there in the company of one he could barely trust.

Felix had quietly committed himself to a year of intense if not boring sword training at the grounds.

Well, until he was summoned to his father’s office.

“What is it, old man?”

“Felix.” His father sighed. “I know you’re not interested in proposals, and that we agreed to wait until you were older before discussing the possibility of accepting any.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Just what was his sneak of a father planning?

“But considering your current circumstances and your relationship with the suitor, I thought you would consider this proposal.”

He handed Felix a letter.

A letter with the seal of House Gautier.


	2. Chapter 2

In the coming years, Sylvain will thank the Goddess that on this particular night, he obediently stayed at his estate instead of gallivanting off into the nearby villages. 

In truth, it was not a particularly pleasant night; the rain came down in sheets and the wind and thunder were unrelenting. 

Sylvain had insulated himself in the fur blankets of his bed, across from a roaring fireplace. He’d already started drifting off when a thundering knock on his door startled him so badly that he rolled off the bed.

He opened the door with a flirtatious smile for the young maid Cosette. She looked incredibly flustered and anxious.

“Pardon me, my lord. But there’s a guest you must attend to. It’s urgent.”

Sylvain couldn’t remember the latest conquest he had snubbed, truth be told. He laughed in a carefree manner. “I’m afraid I’ll be seeing no young maidens tonight, beautiful. They’ll have to wait till morning.” 

He went to close the door, but the maid slammed her hands against it. “My lord. I must inform you that the young Lord Fraldarius is waiting for you in the foyer. If I may be frank, I’m afraid if you wait until morning, there might not be much of a castle for you to wake up to.”

Ah, so Felix was a little upset then. He should probably go to cheer him up, especially after what must have been a long midnight ride from Fraldarius. After assuring Cosette he’d be down at the foyer as soon as possible, he quickly changed into something somewhat presentable and warm. 

Hurrying down, he stopped at the sight of Felix, who looked as pale as a ghost in the candlelight. A completely drenched ghost. Goddess, had he ridden from Fraldarius to Gautier in the rain? 

He walked up to him and started to fret. “Felix. What’s wrong? Do you need some towels? I’ll get someone to start a fire immediately.”

When Felix said nothing, Sylvain started to move to call one of the roaming castle staff. But he couldn’t take a step before Felix’s icy hand shot out and held him down. 

Anxious, Sylvain noticed that Felix wasn’t looking at him at all. He seemed very fixated on his feet. 

His voice was so bitter that it startled Sylvain. “Did you know?” 

“Know what?”

Trembling with what Sylvain assumed was anger or the cold, Felix thrust a partially drenched letter at him from beneath his raincoat. 

Confused, Sylvain took the letter. It was clearly from his family if the seal was any indication. It was addressed to Felix’s father. But the contents were much more interesting, proposing an engagement between the Heirs of Gautier and Fraldarius. 

Marriage was a sore subject for Felix. It was no secret that Felix wanted to avoid an arranged marriage. Sylvain has long doubted that Felix would ever want a romantic relationship at all. The scores of nobles who tried to pester him into marriage contracts only sealed his disdain for them. To receive such an offer from a family he trusted- surely he saw it as a betrayal. A skittish and vulnerable Felix was such a rarity nowadays. He had to tread lightly.

“I was aware that my parents were interested in me courting you,” he answered truthfully. “But I didn’t realise they’d approach you so soon, and so boldly.” 

Honestly, he was a little surprised that Felix even saw the letter; he knew for a fact that Lord Rodrigue famously tore up any proposals for his beloved son’s hand. 

“My old man thought it would be a beneficial arrangement,” Felix spat. “This isn’t a courtship proposal. It’s an engagement. They must have told you before they sent this. Don’t fucking lie to me.” 

Felix was right. There was a big difference between entering a courtship and engagement. The first stage of courtship allows a couple to get to know each other, the second was to enter a closer, more romantically-inclined relationship. The third stage was an unspoken commitment to marriage. Engagement usually came at the end of the long process, with official contracts, dowries or bride prices and a date set for the ceremony. 

Without consultation, Sylvain’s parents had sent out a few courtship requests for young noblewomen, but none had been successful past the first stage. Maybe they were finally learning because they’d finally decided to ask him about his preferences for courtship candidates. Perhaps he made a mistake by showing any positive feelings towards a courtship with Felix. They had clearly jumped on the chance for him to marry the desirable Felix Fraldarius and had very obviously interpreted their childhood friendship as the equivalent to a long and successful courtship.

“Felix. They knew I wouldn’t mind courting you, but I had no idea they’d send this to your father. You gotta believe me.”

Felix laughed bitterly. “I don’t understand. Why on earth would you think courting me would be a good idea? Why would you think I would ever want to marry you?”

Ignoring the pang in his chest at those words, Sylvain quietly said, “Courtship doesn’t always have to end in marriage, Felix. We’re friends, aren’t we? We’d be doing each other a favour. If we were courting, you’d get fewer marriage offers. I’d be pestered less by my parents for a while. It’s not like we’d have to spend more time with each other than we already do. It doesn’t have to last forever.” 

He managed to summon up a smile. “We don’t even have to pretend to be in love.” 

Felix looked floored. But not angered, or disgusted. “You want me to lie for you so you’ll be able to mess around with more girls?”

“No. I’m suggesting that we both lie so that both our lives will be easier. It’s not like we’d be really lying anyway. We’ll just say that through courtship, we’ve discovered that we’re romantically incompatible. I’ll even try to hit on fewer girls for the sake of our reputations.”

Watching Felix’s face he could pick up a multitude of emotions before he finally landed on acceptance. “I’ll think about it. But no promises.”

Sylvain grinned. “Now that’s just what I want to hear. Let’s get you warmed up.”

\---

After the great effort to convince Felix to stay the night (honestly, riding back to Fraldarius in that storm was a terrible idea), Sylvain lead him to his own room. 

Usually, Felix would be staying in his personal guestroom, but considering the circumstances, Sylvain was uneasy with sending him there. How would he warm himself up with no fire or heated towels? 

He unsuccessfully tried to dry Felix’s lovely hair until Felix snatched the towel from him, griping about his hair-drying incompetence. Sylvain lent him some clean underclothes and sleeping robes since Felix himself had bought none. He’d turned around while Felix changed. 

Eventually, Cosette started to bang on his door, demanding that he sleep in one of the guest rooms if Felix was to stay in his quarters. She brutally ignored Sylvain’s protests that they’ve shared a bed since they were children. 

“I’m just looking out for you, milord. If Lord Rodrigue finds out you slept with his only son, I’m afraid this lowly one will be unable to protect you.” 

Sylvain turned piteously to Felix, hoping for a rebuttal, but found his friend laughing at his predicament and smugly burying himself in Sylvain’s warm furs. It was a little adorable.

\---

Be the end of the month, most of Northern Fodlan knew Sylvain Jose Gautier had entered a courtship with Felix Hugo Fraldarius.


	3. Chapter 3

Surprisingly, Sylvain kept to his word. Although he still flirted shamelessly and chased every skirt he saw, he was rarely caught in privacy with women, and Felix noticed a significant drop in his walks of shame.

Of course, Felix didn’t care about any of this, not really. But he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a benefit of their arrangement. If nothing else, it seemed like a load off of Ingrid’s shoulders, who was sick of the messes she had to clean up for Sylvain. 

Even so, Ingrid expressed her concern over the arrangement more than once. “I don’t want you two to drift apart if it doesn’t work out,” she said while helping Felix clean the training grounds. 

“I told you already, it’s not like that. We’re just covering for each other.”

She handed him a bundle of training lances and pinched his ear while his hands were full. “Courtship is a serious matter! Even if you two think it’s fake, no one else does. What if you both meet someone while at the academy? Think about your honour!”

Felix stumbled out of her grip and wanted to roll his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about honour or whoever Sylvain chases when we’re at the academy. And I’m not going to let any of those dogs near me. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. If I had my way, I’m never getting married.”

Felix knew it was a foreign concept to Ingrid. It was a guillotine hanging over her head. She’d never questioned it, and that was a foreign concept to Felix.

“What about your duty to your family?” 

“That’s why we keep my uncle around.” His tone was hard and invited no rebuttals.

Seeing the grimace on Felix’s face, she sighed. “I know it’s none of my business. But I’m worried about you two.”

Felix shook his head and went back to sorting the training weapons. “Haven’t you been in a bunch of courtships? What’s there to worry about?”

She hesitated. With their shared history, she rarely talked about her suitors with Felix. “I don’t talk to many of my former suitors. Things can get awkward. Especially if someone gets...attached, and the other person doesn’t.”

Felix paused. Sylvain wouldn’t get attached, he knew that. Sylvain for one thing, was only interested in girls. It didn’t matter if Felix was an omega. And even if he did have feelings for him, Sylvain was famous for switching targets seamlessly. 

Felix also knew himself- he’d never fall for someone like Sylvain. He grew up with him. He knew how reckless he could be, how stubborn and ignorant he seemed. He knew whatever girl ended up with Sylvain would have her work cut out for her. He’d need a healer and a protector. Someone whose heart was strong enough to see him go down again and again. Someone who could beat the sense out of him whenever he was particularly idiotic. Besides, Sylvain was a terrible influence. If Felix was in love with him, who knew what kind of trouble Sylvain would get him into- Felix was already weak for his playful smile and his pitiful eyes. Felix  _ couldn’t _ fall in love with him.

And so, as Felix said to Ingrid, “We won’t get attached.”

\---

There was a reason why Felix was so enraged when he first saw that letter. In his opinion, Sylvain’s parents were nutjobs. They constantly pushed him to be better. Despite their complaints about his womanising ways, they didn’t hesitate to push him to seduce young omega ladies either. It didn’t make a difference; Sylvain always got bored of them eventually.

It brought him shame to think about it now, but when he read that letter, Felix had thought that perhaps Sylvain’s parents had turned their eyes to him, and the long hours Sylvain had spent with Felix had been at his parent’s behest. That felt like the worst kind of betrayal. 

Felix had no friends in the world besides Ingrid and Sylvain. His relationship with Ingrid was tepid; it was tempered with their shared grief and conflicting moral values. Dimitri was almost not worth mentioning- Felix had not seen him since he quashed the rebellion in Western Faerghus, and most of his fondness for him has disappeared long before that. 

The thought of Sylvain only giving him his time to win him over felt like the world unravelling before him. All of those childhood promises, secrets whispered to each other at night, and days spent in each other’s company...he didn’t want to think about it when he knew it couldn’t be true. And yet, that seed of doubt carried him on horseback to Castle Gautier. 

He was right, of course. Sylvain was his best friend. He didn’t have to remind Felix of how he’d run crying to Sylvain whenever Glenn, Ingrid or Dimitri made him cry. Felix could, embarrassingly, recall those memories like pleasant dreams. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have grown up with Sylvain by his side. He’d never admit it, but a future without Sylvain seemed a little less interesting. He wasn’t worried about it though. Gautier was less than an hour’s ride away by wyvern. 

\---

If anything, Felix and Sylvain’s parents were surprised by Felix’s suggestion of a courtship proposal.

Once he had received word of his son’s midnight visit to Castle Gautier, Lord Rodrigue had immediately set out to herd him home, and to demand an explanation. Once he had arrived and Margrave Gautier had greeted him and announced the news, Rodrigue was floored. 

Logically, he knew why Felix had accepted. The hordes of suitors descending upon Castle Fraldarius grated on his own nerves, let alone Felix’s. His son was meant to be a free spirit. To be bound to his quarters created such a foul mood that all the castle staff were constantly jumpy and paranoid around him. He knew why Felix would want this courtship- but he was reasonably stumped with Sylvain’s motivations. 

Rodrigue was understandably apprehensive about allowing his son to court a well-known philanderer. Honestly, he didn’t know exactly what he was thinking when he showed Felix that proposal. Young Gautier was Felix’s dearest friend, yes, but that didn’t mean Rodrigue was willing to let him break his son’s heart.

Ergo, before he decided to accept the courtship on behalf of Felix, he demanded to see Sylvain and ask for his intentions towards his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix: Love? I don't know that ho
> 
> For clarity's sake: felix & ingrids chat happens after the courtship started, Rodrigue was just thinking about what had happened after the end of chapter 2.


	4. Chapter 4

Sylvain was not a morning person. At least, not like Felix was. He liked to dawdle in bed when he could, and took his time to groom himself in the mornings and preside over breakfast. 

Still, the morning after Felix had arrived at the castle, he had managed to wake up at a reasonable hour to keep his friend company. Felix’s mood had been unstable lately, and with the shock that had driven his visit, Sylvain assumed he’d need to spend more time cajoling his friend to ensure his spirits remained high. A grumpy Felix was no fun, and Sylvain wanted to ensure that Felix enjoyed spending time with him. 

Making his way to his own room, Sylvain noticed many servants bustling about frantically in the guest wing. He thought nothing of it.

He found Felix sitting by the window, munching on some breakfast pastries and conversing with Cosette. Sylvain frowned. The conversation seemed quite amiable, but for some reason, Sylvain felt a vague discomfort watching them. Cosette never gave him the time of day, unless it was to scold him or relay the orders of his parents. Perhaps he was jealous of her attention. 

Then he watched Felix smile gently over a cup of tea, and his stomach flipped. No, he shouldn’t lie to both himself and Felix. 

He knew what he was feeling. 

“Felix! Good morning. I can’t believe my dear Cosette bought you breakfast and left me to starve.”

The two quickly turned to him, looking a little surprised. 

“Sylvain,” said Felix dryly. “I’m surprised you’re up.”

Cosette nodded. “My lord, you usually do not partake in breakfast at this time. I was going to serve you in a few hour’s time.”

Sylvain pouted. Why was Cosette making him look bad in front of Felix? “Aw, come on guys! I can’t let Felix eat by himself, that’d make me a terrible host.” 

He took a nibble of one of the pastries. Ugh, why was there so much cinnamon and nutmeg? Clearly, Felix’s tastebuds were broken!

Cosette smiled. “I’ll go fetch something more suitable to your palate, my lord. I believe the kitchen was making some berry oatmeal.” 

She left in a hurry, allowing Sylvain to move his seat over to Felix’s side, all the way into his personal space. To his credit, Felix didn’t moved away, even if he did frown at the intrusion.

Sylvain broke off a piece of his pastry and held it in front of Felix’s mouth. “Say ah~”

Felix rolled his eyes and ripped the pastry from his hands. “Don’t waste food if you’re not going to eat it, moron.”

Sylvain smugly watched as Felix ate his tiny pastry offering.

“What did you want to do today? It’s been a while since I’ve been out to town, so if you want to come with me to pick up-”

Felix elbowed him. “If you’re going to suggest bringing your suitor to help you pick up girls, then your brain is smaller than I thought it was, moron.”

A moment passed.

“Wait. You’re agreeing?” 

Felix shrugged. “It’s not a bad idea. I can’t stand all of those assholes who aren’t even fit to challenge me. And it sounds like you’ll need help with your crazy parents.”

“Aw Felix! You’re the best!”

He wrapped Felix in a one-armed hug. 

“You moron! Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Felix tried to escape the hug, but Sylvain saw the faint blush and pout on his face. Heh, a success! This was going to be the best courtship ever, Sylvain could feel it. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be real. He’d take Felix over some random omega any day. 

They went back to trading quips while Sylvain contentedly watched Felix eat. 

Then suddenly, there was a hurried knock on the door. Felix looked pointedly at Sylvain until he got up to answer it.

Standing at his door was Cosette. She looked stressed and anxious and was not carrying the promised oatmeal. Sylvain had a brief feeling of déjà vu. 

“What happened Cosette? Is something wrong?”

“The Duke of Fraldarius has arrived and has asked to see you, my lord.”

Felix and Sylvain exchanged twin looks of worry. 

“How much time do we have until I have to see him?”

“Not much, I’m afraid, my lord. We’ll stall him in the garden for as long as we can, but his grace is not someone you cannot avoid if you wish to court his son.”

That much Sylvain already knew, but he admittedly was not prepared to face Felix’s father mere moments after confirmation his courtship with Felix. 

Sylvain reached into his pocket and handed Cosette a small pouch of coins. “Bribe the gardeners, serving boys, whoever- just buy us some time.”

Cosette nodded, took the coins, and left. Sylvain closed the door and immediately started to pace. 

“Saints, why is my old man here?”

“He must have followed you here after he found you missing. Did you leave a note?”

Realisation appeared on Felix’s face. “Ah, I suppose he’d be worried if wrote I’d be back within the day and then stayed here overnight.”

Now Sylvain was the one who wanted to roll his eyes. “Felix… you’ve really got to work on your communication skills.”

Felix snorted. “Like you’re one to talk. How many times did you get dumped in the past month because of all that nonsense you spout?” 

Sylvain sputtered. “Forget about that! Why do you think your dad wants to talk to me?”

“Idiot, do you have to ask? The courtship. Your delusional parents are probably treating my stay in your room as a courtship proposal. We haven’t even talked to them yet, but they’re probably trying to get my old man to sign the courtship documents. But with the way he is, he won’t do that until he talks to us.” 

“Right, my parents.” How could he forget? They sure love to meddle, and they were unlikely to let Lord Fraldarius slip away. They were probably feeding him with stories about how Sylvain has already defiled his son, or worse. Goddess, Lord Fraldarius was going to kill him.

Felix stood up and punched him (gently) in the shoulder. “Man up! Just go and tell him why we’re doing this. I’ll follow after and support you. He’s not dumb enough to say no. There are too many creeps crawling around our castle.” 

Sylvain dumbly nodded and marched to his death (after Felix spent a ludicrously long time briefing him on exactly what to say to his father).

\---

Lord Rodrigue was sitting in the gardens rather peacefully until a flock of hens and pigeons collectively descended upon him. Servants quickly rushed him to a different, more secluded part of the garden, where one of Lady Gautier’s puppies happened to be. Rodrigue was fond of dogs, so he petted it for a while until it got so excited that it peed on his pants. As the puppy’s handler apologised, some other servants guided him to the bathhouse, where he washed and changed. He dosed off a little in the bath. When he was finally done, a young maid informed him the Sylvain was waiting for him on one of the castle’s balconies. After assuring him that there should be no wayward animals there, she led him there.

Sylvain was a fine youth. Healthy and handsome, and strong in ways which Felix was not. Perhaps, if he had a daughter, they’d be more well-matched. But then again, with the way Sylvain acted, it was hard to believe that he’d ever treat a maiden as a genuine love interest. Perhaps it was for the best that things were the way they were. 

When Sylvain saw him, he stood up and bowed. “Your grace, I hope you’re well.”

Rodrigue smiled. The boy was as pleasant as ever. He waved his hand. “No need for the pleasantries, Sylvain.”

Sylvain smiled back nervously. The last time Rodrigue had seen him this anxious, Sylvain and his sons had broken a window in one of Fraldarius’ greenhouses playing ball sports. They were but young children back then.

“I’m afraid my parents would insist on some level of formality, considering I'm going to ask you for permission to court your son.” 

Rodrigue nodded. At least the boy was cutting straight to the point. “I hope you know why Felix is eager to court you, but what I’m personally interested in is why you would like to court him. I know of your reputation. What are your intentions with my son?”

Sylvain froze, as if not anticipating the question. Rodrigue was never one to beat around the bush, and Sylvain would do well to learn that.

After a brief moment, he answered. “I wish to court him with the intention of marriage. I know I’ve courted other omegas before, but there were strangers. I would never enter a courtship with someone I care about so frivolously. Felix is special to me. I’d rather die than hurt him. I’d do anything to protect him and his smile. I want to be with him forever. I just need a chance to prove it to him.” 

Rodrigue drummed his fingers against the table. He was a little apprehensive in allowing a Gautier to court his son, considering their fixation on crests. But Sylvain sounded unbelievably earnest. Even if only half of what he said was true, it was viable to let him try. Unsuccessful courtships didn’t have to last long, and Rodrigue trusted his son’s judgement. But would that mean Felix would be using Sylvain? Rodrigue paused his fingers. No, Felix was not the kind of person to enter such an arrangement if he had no feelings for the other party. Deep down, perhaps Rodrigue knew there was a possibility that these two has feelings for each other when he handed Felix the proposal. In the end, if Sylvain wasn’t out to conquer and dispose of Felix’s heart, Rodrigue had no complaints.

“Very well. If Felix agrees, I will allow this courtship to proceed. But know that if you seek to hurt my son, my retribution will not come lightly.”

“I understand, your grace.” Sylvain looked exuberant. Perhaps this boy would be good for his son after all.

\---

Felix quietly fumed below the balcony. He didn’t expect Sylvain to crack under his old man’s interrogation and start spouting nonsense. They’d agreed to stick to the truth! Now Felix had to make up some… some rubbish about his latent feelings for Sylvain!

Just because his old man was a little intimidating and overprotective, it didn’t mean he was going to shank Sylvain for telling the truth, for Goddess’ sake! Intellectually, he knew that his father just didn’t want Sylvain to use him. It was fine! They were using each other!

Felix scrambled his brain, trying to figure out what exactly to say to his old man while trying to ignore the growing disappointment in his chest. To hear Sylvain say those things about him made him feel breathless. It made him feel warm. But when he remembered the context of the conversation, those same words made him feel empty and bitter.

Who knew his best friend was a man who could tell such heartless lies with such a straight face? 

Who knew how many people had fallen for his charm? 

If he looked Sylvain in the eye, would he be able to tell the truth from the lies?

Felix didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cosette bribed the barn staff to release the birbs, then bribed rodrigue's guards for his weaknesses (dogs, he's weak to doggos), and bribed lady gautier's dog handler, and even the bath staff to make rodridgue's bath as nice and long as possible. ya girl cut no corners.
> 
> also soz for skipping around chronologically so much, this happens shortly after chapter 2, and the last bit of chapter 3. The beginning of chapter 3 happens about a month or so after this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

The advent of the Wyvern Moon marked the end of fall. Felix wasn’t really one to keep track of dates, but he knew the Wyvern Moon also marked two months since the beginning of his courtship.

Despite Ingrid’s misgivings, Sylvain remained perfectly respectable, if a little too annoying for Felix’s taste. Phasing out his favourite hobby meant that Sylvain now had more time to spend with Felix. If he was being truthful, Felix would admit that he did enjoy spending time in Sylvain’s company. However, that didn’t mean Sylvain had finally come to his senses and decided to start training with him more frequently. 

Instead, he’d drag Felix out to plays and markets, claiming that he was making the charade more believable. Occasionally, he’d take Felix out to hunt, or out camping in the eastern coast of Gautier. The eastern coast was home to dolphins and seals, great forests and ruins. Going there helped Felix clear his head. He’d spent too long cooped up at home. 

Still, all good things had to come to an end. When the Wyvern Moon came, the northern lords received their summons. The court was going on a grand progress in the west, commemorating the Regent’s birthday celebrations. 

Though Felix knew his father thought it was a frivolous event, he still ordered Felix to attend in his place. Margrave Gautier, unable to leave the border until winter, ordered Sylvain to go. The Galateas jumped on the opportunity to showcase their marriageable daughter, and so the three friends resigned themselves to a couple of months of courtly duties. 

The progress was to venture west, where the rebellion had been quelled. It would tour a few kingdom fiefs₁. His father had explained to him, once, why the progress existed at all. Historically, it would happen to commemorate big events- such as coronations, or royal weddings. It was a way for the court to go out and connect with the people. 

Felix thought it was a waste of crown funds. His father reminded him sternly that Grand Duke Regent Rufus might be a frivolous man, but he was still power-hungry, manipulative and proud. 

The progress itself was a show of wealth and power, but the crown had the statutory powers to command the fiefs they visited to pay for the parades, tournaments and feasts for the whole progression themselves. Rufus would be careful not to offend his powerful kingdom allies, but the disgraced western lords would not be so lucky. 

His father called it obedience through poverty₂. The western lords commanded less loyalty in the populace than lords in the north. Obviously, Grand Duke Rufus was counting on the noble's diminished funds to discourage the recruitment of peasant armies.

It also served as a reminder for the boar and his supporters. Rufus most likely didn’t want them to forget who currently held power- and who held the connections in and outside of the court. It was no secret Felix’s father despised Rufus. The man would not make it easy for Dimitri to ascend to the throne.

As much as Felix despised the boar, he would admit that he’d be a better ruler than Rufus. His human mask was pleasant and kind, and his allies and advisors were more compassionate to the people than his uncle's.

It took them a few days to ride to Fhirdiad. They rode in carriages, but occasionally the three friends would ride horseback instead. While it was tiring, it was less monotonous. 

Felix rode one of his family’s sturdy gleddings, while Ingrid accompanied a fast and nimble mare. She was studying pegasus and wyvern husbandry but had not been dubbed ready to patron them. Sylvain had a great warhorse, which was a gift from his father. The horse was cranky and mean, but had a weakness for treats and grooming sessions. Sylvain once compared Felix to his horse. It did not end particularly well for him.

Felix was sure that if they weren't courting, Sylvain would be more excited about the progress. Many ladies, nobles and commoners alike came out of the woodwork for nightly festivals and grand feasts. Sylvain would delight in their swooning over him, like the fool he was.

Sylvain was also a fully-fledged knight in all but name- he was likely to be the only one out of the three of them to compete in official tournaments. As a child, Felix had loved watching them. It was a pity that challenges to him would be met with disapproval. Still, Felix was looking forward to participating in informal matches of skills. With the entire court present, there was bound to be some warriors worth his time. 

Once they did arrive in Fhirdiad, they were ushered into the palace. Felix had not been in Fhirdiad for months, and the last time he visited, he stayed in his family’s manor house in the upper ring, not the palace. 

Felix used to have his own guest room in the children’s quarters of the palace. Afterall, his family used to constantly visit Fhirdiad. 

Things were different now. Now Sylvain, Ingrid and he were whisked away to the western wing of the palace, far away from their childhood rooms, and from Dimitri. 

He would never say it aloud, but he was grateful for the web of lies that he and Sylvain had spun. Walking through the palace, he could feel a mass of stares following him. Felix himself didn’t care about his crest or his designation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the effect that could have on his life. 

Any man or woman who approached him now would be acting in bad faith. He and Sylvain would finally have a cause to put them in their place. 

\---

As soon as he finished putting his things into his room, Felix donned his combat leathers and made his way to the training grounds of the royal guards. Growing up, he spent a lot of time around them. Sylvain, Ingrid, Dimitri, Glenn and he loved watching the knights practice. The training grounds for the guards was much more expansive than any other he’d ever seen. 

Visiting the grounds was nostalgic, and he always tried to make time for it whenever he visited Fhirdiad. He would always learn something from them even if he didn’t have time to spar. Of course, the familiar faces dwindled year after year. Especially after the tragedy of Duscur… the Royal Guards served as a reminder to Felix that life was fleeting. No one could stay by your side forever.

Once they saw him, they beckoned him over, teasing him and gently cuffing him on the head. 

“Look at you, kid! Growing so fast I can barely recognise you!” 

“Shut up, old man” said Felix, but his expression and excited tone of voice betrayed his words. “Spar with me.”

The other guards chuckled. One of the sergeants, Edgar, smiled at him. “You never change, boy. It’s always fightin’ with you.”

Despite their teasing, they let him join their training and a few of them challenged him to spar afterwards. He won as much as he lost, which he didn’t mind. Failure was an important part of improving. Fighting a training dummy and winning against the same people over and over again was what held him back.

Some of the knights and soldiers from other noble houses trickled in as the day went on. Felix took breaks to watch them spar- there wasn’t anything wrong with observing.

As he was watching some of the matches, Sergeant Edgar and his squad sat with him and joked around. Elara, one the corporals, eventually redirected the conversation to a more embarrassing topic. 

“Heard you’re getting courted. By that Gautier kid? Didn’t think he was your type.”

Felix shrugged. “We’re friends. And Sylvain’s not that bad.”

One of the visiting knights grinned. “Oh yeah, that’s what milady said about him when he-” 

Felix waved his handed and snorted. “Don’t bother, I’ve heard it all.” 

He stood up and shook his head. “I’m out for today. Will you lot be around during the progress? I’m not looking forward to wasting away with the gentry.”

Edgar laughed. “Where his highness goes, we follow. Pop around any time, kid.”

Felix thanked them and started to leave when another group of knights and nobles entered the grounds. They stopped when they saw him and sneered. Among them, Felix recognised one of them as Oswald of Rowe, one of his former suitors. 

Oswald was a vile man. He had a minor crest, but his brother did too, so they both competed relentlessly over the position of being their father’s heir. Felix was unlucky enough to catch Oswald’s attention; perhaps he thought that if he had an obedient spouse with good breeding, his parents would value him more. The man was unbearably persistent and had been one of the few suitors that his father had to chase off himself. 

"I didn't realise they'd let any old wench in here," said Oswald. The men behind him guffawed. 

Felix narrowed his eyes and walked forward with a hand on his sword. "Call me what you want, but don't hide behind your babysitters. If you have a grudge, we'll settle this with blood. Unless you're afraid of me." 

"I'm not afraid of you, you ungrateful, jumped-up whor-"

Edgar stepped in between them, placing his big, armoured hands on Oswald's shoulder in what had to be a painful grip. "That's enough, gentlemen," he said. His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Oswald frantically shook himself free. 

"Watch your back," he hissed, and then stormed off with his posse.

Edgar looked at Felix and shrugged. "That one'll be trouble. Want us to teach him a lesson? Behind the barracks, in a shady alleyway, the like?" 

Felix scoffed. "I can fight my own battles, thanks". 

And by the time he was finished, perhaps Oswald would learn what fear meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fief; an area of feudal tenure, ie.a duchy, county, barony, margravate  
2\. Quote from Tamora Pierce's Squire  
A lot of the progress stuff came from the same book hahaha. Think of it as a medieval tour bus of Faerghus, but everyone is in nice tents (or if they're lucky, the manors and castles of local lords). It's a big procession. Like, the entire court goes on a huge tour of feasts, tournaments, sight-seeing, etc. It travels very slowly, therefore taking months to go from Fhirdard to the western fiefs.


	6. Chapter 6

The progress trailed across Faerghus, stopping at many major fiefs. Felix thought it was a bit of a miserable affair and honestly, if not for his company, Sylvain would not have enjoyed it as much as he did. 

The past few months had been a strange mix of indulgence and agony for him. 

After he had confessed his true intentions towards Felix to Lord Rodrigue, he knew that Felix had two courses of action: denial or acceptance. He knew it was likely for Felix to reject the courtship after such a confession, but he was banking on Felix’s desperation to repel other suitors. 

If Sylvain had told Lord Rodrigue of Felix’s proposed intentions, there was no guarantee that he would have allowed them to proceed; Felix’s father was a man of honour, much like his sons. 

And perhaps, in the deep recesses of his mind, he held out hope that if he was honest now and could make Felix fall in love with him, his father would support their marriage in the future. 

But that was merely a passing daydream. 

Sylvain struggled to decipher Felix’s exact feelings towards him. Getting him to admit their friendship was like pulling teeth from him. Fondness and happiness- if they hadn’t known each other for so long, Sylvain would doubt Felix liked him at all. 

Still, he wouldn’t mind if Felix was just using him- it got his foot in the door and nudged Felix to look at him in a more romantic light. Felix was the only omega- the only person, really, that he would ever be happy to spend the rest of his life with. Perhaps it was a subconscious decision. His ideal omega had never been docile and delicate. When he thought of The One, he thought of someone strong, with great resolve and a kind heart, who he could depend on in times of hardship. He thought of Felix.

The thought of some nameless omega settling down in Felix’s place made him a little sick, but for the longest time, he couldn’t bear the idea of ruining their friendship with his desires. 

But then, a few months ago, he noticed changes in Felix’s behaviour. He was foolish to hope, but he noticed Felix’s eyes lingering on him when he trained, his irritation whenever he brought up a new flame and how he was more willing to spend time with him than before if he pestered enough. 

It was likely that Felix hadn’t noticed these changes himself, but Sylvain’s trained eye saw it as it was; a crush. 

Still, a crush didn’t mean anything. It could just be lust or even hero worship. He knew Felix wouldn’t pursue anything himself. If he wanted to have Felix, he needed to make him fall in love with him. So he insinuated to his parents that Felix was willing to be courted by him. Predictably, his parents jumped on the bait immediately. 

If they were courting, then maybe Sylvain could convince Felix that he was worthy of him. It would be easier than convincing himself. 

He certainly tried- he put away his womanising and endeavoured to spend as much time with Felix as he could. He was ready to admit that he missed hanging out with Felix as he did when they were younger. Coaxing a rare smile or laugh from him was unlike anything he’d ever felt with a girl. 

Going on progress certainly changed things- mostly for the worst. His father sent him a few unsavoury letters insinuating that he should work harder to seduce Felix- if they were caught in a compromising situation on progress, it was possible Lord Rodrigue would fast-track their courtship for the sake of Felix’s honour. Sylvain burnt those. 

It was harder to sneak around on progress, with all of the nobles, knights and soldiers around. There were no gossips like nobles. Eyes followed Felix and him everywhere. It was likely that he wouldn’t have to try hard to besmirch Felix’s honour. If they disappeared in a tent for an hour to play with cards, tongues would wag at the implications. He worked hard to avoid such a mistake.

Goddess knows everyone was waiting for him to mess up, to go cheat on Felix the second his back was turned. It wasn’t like Sylvain wasn’t ever tempted; he still found women wonderful and his years-long habits were hard to break. But he wasn’t going to mess up his only chance to be with Felix, even if Felix had repeatedly assured him that it was fine for him to hook up with women if he did so discreetly. 

He saw how Felix avoided his eyes when he said it. The delivery of his words was calm but a little stilted. Sylvain would eat his boots if Felix genuinely meant it.

Despite the eyes on them, Sylvain still tried to take Felix out to have fun. They couldn’t spend much time together in private, but they still went out to eat and watch shows and tourneys together. He knew that Felix was probably bored out of his mind, so he even indulged him with a few casual spars. Of course, he usually lost, but seeing that smug grin on Felix’s face made it worth it (even if he had to endure the mocking from tactless nobles about losing to an omega). 

He hated his crest, his lineage, but most of all, his designation. It made his parents treat him like a breeding stud, not a warm, living human. Others treated him as callous and unfeeling, as if all he cared about was strength and rutting. 

Worse, it made him feel a hot curl of possessiveness whenever he looked at Felix with other alphas.

He hated feeling like he wasn’t in control.

The feeling reared his ugly head when he saw Felix posturing and threatening Oswald of Rowe in Fhirdiad from afar. He reigned it in. He knew Felix could handle it himself.

But Oswald didn’t let up. At every stop of the way, he’d come and bother Felix, ignoring his company. Felix challenged him multiple times but Oswald never accepted, claiming that he wasn’t interested in fighting a weak omega. 

Well, his exact words were, “If I win, they’ll say I bullied an omega. If I lost, then they’ll know you used your pheromones against me.”

It was such bullshit- Felix would never resort to such underhanded methods. Besides, to Sylvain’s knowledge, Felix hadn’t even had his first heat yet. Though he smelled faintly pleasant, it wouldn’t be enough to even distract an alpha, let alone attract one. 

Felix somehow managed to restrain himself from utterly destroying Oswald, but Sylvain couldn’t say the same.

Every time Oswald came around, Sylvain’s alpha instinct reared its ugly head. People who made Felix unhappy shouldn’t be allowed around him. He wanted to make them pay.

It was rare that Oswald would approach Felix without his bodyguards, but he was probably getting complacent with how many times that Felix had let him go unscathed. 

He watched as Oswald tried to get into Felix’s personal space again before he shoved him back and stood between them.

“That’s enough, Oswald.” 

Oswald smirked. “What, he’s finally letting his alpha do the fighting? I knew an omega would never-”

Sylvain rushed forward and hauled Oswald off his feet, holding him up by his collar. “Shut your mouth about him.”

He laughed. “Why do you care so much? Everyone knows you only care about your whores. You wanna tell everyone he sucked your-”

Sylvain punched him. 

His ears buzzed. He couldn’t see anything but Oswald’s miserable face. He was so angry, his rage incandescent-

He felt a firm grip on his shoulder. 

“Sylvain. Do this right.” Felix’s calm voice washed over him.

He took a deep breath.

Sylvain ripped a glove off his hand and threw it at Oswald’s face as his wailed on the floor.

“You wanted a duel. I’m officially challenging you. We’ll meet on the jousting lists, or everyone will know you have no honour. When I win, you’ll publicly apologise to Felix, and never bother him again.” 

When he was done, Felix lead him away. He didn’t say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face slapping w glove= it's time to du-du-du-du-du-du-dddd-DUEL
> 
> I HC Sylvain as bisexual + demi/grayromantic. His sexual relationships can be incredibly fulfilling, but he'd never enter in a romantic relationship unless he felt a deep connection. I think it's harder for him to get there with most people, because of his trust issues. Felix, Ingrid, Mercie and Dorothea are some of the only people who really get to that level for him. So I guess that's why I feel he'd feel more fulfilled with Felix than a random girlfriend.


	7. Chapter 7

Felix hated Oswald Rowe. His spiteful ways had always been annoying, but it was as if news of Felix's courtship ignited a whole new category of assholery. 

Even more infuriatingly, the man flaunted his knightly status and refused to acknowledge Felix’s challenges, citing that Felix was only a squire (and an omega on top of that).

He only accepted sparring duels with Felix in the presence of the Royal Guard and his own bodyguards. Felix would never get away with seriously hurting him in an informal environment. It was dishonourable: a stain on his family’s reputation. Besides, with other people watching, it was unlikely he’d get any seriously maiming done. 

Despite his own frustrations, he knew that Sylvain’s challenge to Oswald was a good solution. An official match in front of other nobles and the regent to settle the dispute of Oswald’s behaviour was what Felix wanted. 

If only he could have done it himself.

He knew Sylvain was just trying to help. Deep down, he was touched by his friend’s protectiveness. Still, it made him feel frustratingly helpless. 

So he decided to return the favour.

Usually, Sylvain was the one dragging Felix around to do “fun” things like visit local theatres, go fishing or exploring historical sites.

Felix decided it was time to change that and marched himself all the way to Sylvain’s tent, halfway across the camp.

As considerate as ever, Felix waited until a few hours after daybreak had passed and had even bought sandwiches from the local tavern, which was more delicious (if a little unhealthier) than camp fare.

When he reached his tent, he'd called out, "Sylvain!" 

There was no response.

Frowning, Felix started to make his way through the entrance of the tent. He was familiar with the security measures Sylvain usually set up and made short work of them. 

He saw a lump lying on a cot on the side of the tent. Typical. Of course Sylvain wasn't awake. 

He set the sandwiches down and looked around. At least the tent was clean. Sylvain organised his armour neatly, and his other clothes and possessions were packed tightly away in wooden chests.

His weapons, a lovely steel sword and lance, and a throwing javelin rested against the tent walls. Felix examined the blades. Surprisingly, they were well taken care of.

Despite his aversion to training, Sylvain was a skilled warrior. It was easy to forget that. He turned back to the task at hand.

"Oi," said Felix, while poking Sylvain's shoulder.

He got no reaction.

"Wake up!" He shouted. He slapped Sylvain's back. 

Sylvain noticeably twitched and groaned. "Felix… why? Too early. Five more minutes…"

“It’s almost noon.”

“What?” Sylvain shot up.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Well, it’d be noon by the time you’d have woken up without me. Come on, get up. I bought food. You need to train.”

Sylvain rolled over in the cot and covered his head with his pillow and mumbled, “I can’t hear you, I’m asleep.”

Felix was sure this manchild was pouting. 

He ripped the pillow from Sylvain’s hands, ignored his whine and started hitting him with it. 

“Your duel. Is next week. Get up. Don’t make me lose face,” he said between hits.

Sylvain blindly flailed away from the hits and rolled off the cot. He landed with a huge bang. 

“Ugh,” he said while massaging his back. ”Felix… why are you so mean to me when I’m doing you a favour?”

Felix dumped the pillow back on the cot and offered Sylvain his hand. Sylvain was heavier than he looked. Honestly, he was probably solid muscle. It was a little unfair. Felix didn’t really grow and had trouble putting on weight. Stupid alphas.

“It’s because you’re fighting in my name that I want you to win. Letting that creep win would just encourage him to keep badgering me.”

Sylvain snorted as he started to put on his training gear. “Aw babe, where’s your faith in me?”

Felix scowled and hit Sylvain in the arm.

“Ow! Felix!”

“Don’t call me that, especially in public.”

“It was just a joke.” Was pouting all that Sylvain knew how to do? 

Felix crossed his arms. “It’s still weird for you to call me that! I don’t want people to think I’m-”

“What? You don’t want people to think that you’re dating me? I hate to break it to you Felix, but that’s kind of the point of all this.” Despite his fair choice of words, the tone of Sylvain’s voice was harsh and closed-off.

Felix frowned again. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he said quietly.

Sylvain sighed. “Yeah. I do. Look, I’ll try to keep the PDA to a minimum, but don’t forget why we’re doing this.”

Felix nodded. 

\---

True to his word, Felix helped Sylvain train. Their sessions were watched keenly by other nobles, soldiers and even the occasional commoner.

Ingrid offered to joust him to practice. She was in an entirely different weight class from Sylvain, but any help was welcome since Sylvain was so rusty.

“It’s a good thing your old man isn’t here Felix! He’d probably skewer me!” 

Lord Fraldarius was a notoriously powerful jouster, despite the fact that he favoured wielding swords and healing magic above wielding lances. It was in the name- the Shield of Faerghus. 

Felix shot a glance at his friends in the Royal Guard- they grinned, mounted their steeds and approached Sylvain. 

“Come on, pretty boy. We can’t have you disgracing our friend. Let’s go for a few rounds.”

Sylvain reluctantly nodded and got into position. Forget about Lord Fraldarius- the Royal Guard were a much more real and present threat to his bruise-ridden skin and dignity.

They went a few rounds- unlike Ingrid, their lances struck Sylvain’s shield with considerable force. Sylvain managed to unseat one of the smaller calvary soldiers, but he was unseated himself a few times and sent flying through the air.

Despite his nature, Felix found it hard to suppress a smile- the rate at which Sylvain’s jousting improved at was truly amazing. It was impressive enough for him to hold his own against some of the Prince’s best guards, let alone give them a run for their money. 

Oswald didn't know what was coming for him.

\--

“Nervous?”

Sylvain scoffed. “Hardly. I’ll teach that dastard a lesson.”

Ingrid swatted Sylvain’s shoulder as she adjusted his armour. “Don’t let your guard down. Creeps like Oswalds like playing dirty." 

She surveyed him. "You’re all kitted up, I’m going to go find a seat. Felix, are you coming?”

Felix shook his head. “I want a moment with this knobhead. I’ll catch up.”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say. Good luck, Sylvain!”

Sylvain walked up to Felix, who was stubbornly refusing to give him eye contact. “Fe, you are gonna wish me luck?”

“From the way you talk, I thought you wouldn’t need good luck.”

Sylvain laughed. “Okay, but in all seriousness… It would be pretty weird if I was dueling for your honour without wearing your favour.”

“I didn’t bring anything you can wear. Forget about it. Everyone knows about us anyway.”

“Nah man, we gotta be convincing.” He stepped closer into Felix’s space, slowing raising a hand and reaching towards the nape of his neck. His face was so close, he could feel the warmth of Sylvain’s breath on his skin.

Felix froze. “Wha-what are you-”

He felt a tug on his hair- it was a little painful, but quick. Sylvain removed his hand and Felix felt his hair tumble out of the updo he had it in. His face heated up. His ears were probably embarrassingly red.

Sylvain smirked and waved his trophy- Felix’s hair ribbon. Usually, Felix wore small leather ties instead of coloured fabric in his hair, but Ingrid had convinced him to put in a little effort. It was just like Sylvain to ruin it.

“I mean, it’s not like you wear this kind of thing often enough for people to know it’s yours, but it is in your house colours, so it’ll do. You’re so considerate, Felix.”

Felix had to physically restrain himself from pouncing on Sylvain to get that ribbon back. He knew Sylvain would just smugly hold it out of his reach. 

He crossed his arms. “Tsk. You better win to make this worth it.”

Sylvain tried to tie the ribbon around his arm and failed spectacularly.

Felix’s brow wrinkled. “Here, let me. You’re embarrassing to watch.” 

He tied the ribbon around twice and double knotted it to make sure it’d stay on. Uncomfortably conscious of their proximity, he felt the weight of Sylvain’s gaze on him.

“Aww. No bow?”

Felix snorted. “Don’t push it.”

Sylvain smiled. It made Felix's knees feel a little weak. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair down like this before. It’s nice." He reached out to touch his hair again. "Are you wearing cologne? It’s a nice scent.”

Felix sputtered and batted his hand away. “Sylvain! That’s enough. Don’t mock me,” he growled. 

He never knew when to quit while he was ahead! Didn’t he understand how thoughtless compliments were insensitive? Just because he couldn’t go flirting with village maidens didn’t mean he could treat Felix just like _them_.

He turned away and stormed out, ignoring Sylvain’s calls of his name. 

\--

When the time for the joust arrived, Felix made his way to the stands and seated himself nearby Ingrid. The seats next to her were already taken up.

It was close to the regent’s seats. Dimitri would have been nearby, but he had to decide to compete. Occasionally a reckless lord would challenge the boar prince. Felix didn’t understand why. Though jousting required experience and skill, someone with monstrous strength would have an undeniable advantage over all opponents.

Ingrid sent him a look of confusion. Ah, right. He’d forgotten to put his hair back up when he’d left Sylvain in a fluster. His cheeks were red too, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger, he didn’t know.

He tried to cool down his face on the back of his cold hands. 

When he raised his head, he saw a young lady watching him from a few stands across. She was richly clothed- even more than the other nobles. Perhaps her parents were hoping for her to catch the eye of a promising suitor. But what was more notable was the vitriol in her glare. He had seen enemy soldiers who looked less hostile. He raised an eyebrow at her and she looked away in response. Confused, he turned back to watch the jousting ring. 

The trumpets played, signalling the entry of the combatants. 

Sylvain rode out and looked like the very picture of a gallant knight. His face was obscured by his helmet, so there was no cheeky wink for him to throw to the crowd. Instead, raised his shield arm, the one Felix had tied his ribbon to. Felix returned the gesture with a solemn nod. The crowd cheered- they loved romance and chivalry and a knight fighting for his intended against a challenger was especially romantic. The cheering dimmed as Oswald entered the ring from the other side of the ring. They were both announced and given their lances.

He watched in trepidation as Sylvain and Oswald both charged. 

The sound of the impact on their shields was incredibly jarring. Both of their lances shattered against each other’s shields. Sylvain didn’t flinch, but Oswald faltered.

They returned to their starting positions and were given fresh lances. 

Sylvain charged forward once more, his powerful horse propelling him forward. Felix watched as he thrust his lance struck Oswald’s shield, popping him from his saddle and sending him out of his saddle.

The crowd roared- he’d won.

Immediately, Sylvain took off his helmet, grin on his face. His sweat-slicked hair clung to his scalp, but Felix still found him unbearably handsome. He heart beat uncomfortably fast in his chest.

…He was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid’s thought process: Felix’s hair is messed up… Cheeks red… clothes disheveled… Sylvain, you and I need to talk *cracks fist*


	8. Chapter 8

Jousts weren't too tiring compared to real combat. Oswald may have had experience dealing with bandits near Arianrhod, but the fighting there was relatively tame. Sylvain, on the other hand, grew up training to fight against the Sreng- he’d spent the past few summers on the battlefield, defending against Sreng skirmishes.

Honestly, if he hadn’t won against Oswald, then that would have truly been a surprise.

Instead of watching Oswald groan on the ground imperiously from his horse, he dismounted. 

He approached the dastard and unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Oswald's throat.

"You've lost. Surely you remember what you have to do?”

Oswald snarled. “I’ll apologise to him.”

Sylvain tilted his head in a silent taunt and nudged sword closer to Oswald’s throat. “You’re forgetting something.”

“I’ll stay away from him,” he said, disgruntled. He batted away Sylvain’s sword.

“Good.” Sylvain smiled and bopped Oswald’s helmet with the sword. The crowd cheered and guffawed.

Then, his smile dropped. “If you go back on your word, just remember that I don’t have to challenge you again to run you through with my blade.”

People who made Felix upset weren't allowed to walk around carefree.

He sheathed his weapon and lead his horse away. He could pick out Felix’s small figure in the crowd. He tried to wave to him again, but Felix didn’t respond. 

For once, there was no frown or pout on his face. His expression was completely inscrutable. 

\--

To be honest, Sylvain had noticed that Felix’s scent had changed gradually during the last fortnight. He hadn’t noticed his scent at all beforehand. At the time of Oswald’s challenge, it had been faintly pleasant, but it had grown considerably stronger. It was possible that it was a side effect of their spending so much time together.

But it was more likely that Felix's body was changing and that he was approaching his first heat. The thought was a little scary, though mostly irrationally so. Even Lord Rodrigue would feel pressure from other nobles to allow them to court Felix if he was a matured omega. If their courtship fell through… Sylvain didn’t want to think about it.

Beyond that, Sylvain was worried his control would slip. He’d heard horror stories of wild alphas losing control around unclaimed omegas. But they were usually horribly exaggerated. It was unlikely he’d lose his control like that.

If anything, he was more concerned about the substantial increase his protective urges. He wasn’t more possessive than usual- Felix was of course allowed time alone and with his friends, but Sylvain felt so uneasy whenever Felix was even remotely threatened.

He didn’t want Felix to think he was clingy but Goddess, if Sylvain had his way, he’d never leave Felix’s side. He hadn’t thought it was possible for him to be even more clingy than he already was, but Felix’s pheromones certainly changed that. 

At the very least, it pushed other men and women right out of his mind. He seldom felt the temptation to hit on other people seriously when his mind was fried from thinking about how to keep Felix happy and how to prove that he was worthy of him. 

It had honestly gotten to the point where Felix and Ingrid had both expressed concern over the drastic changes in his behaviour. Felix pointed out the great amount of time he spent at the training grounds, and Ingrid brought up his codependence with Felix.

He knew he needed a better life balance, but it was hard to get his head around it when his instincts were going crazy, trying to get him to do anything to convince Felix to choose him. He could only hope that he would calm down after Felix’s first heat. Maybe the assurance that Felix could cope well as an unbonded omega would placate his paranoia.

\--

Eventually, Sylvain does get accustomed to spending time at the training grounds. If nothing else, it was great for his lancework.

The soldiers who populated the training grounds were all very jovial and honestly, great company. He enjoyed watching Felix interact with other people instead of just training dummies.

Spending at the training grounds also repelled some of his disgruntled ex-conquests, though the same could not be said about their aggravated brothers, sisters and parents. 

There was the added bonus of watching Felix offer to dual for the sake of his honour. Was it weird that Felix standing up for him got him hot? Probably.

After sunset, they usually left to eat dinner together. The food at the mess tent was subpar, but generally, they were hungry enough that they really didn’t care. 

“I wonder what they’re serving today. I’m starved.”

“You’re always hungry. Honestly, you’re as bad as Ingrid. I don’t know why you’re always so excited for dinner. They always make the same stuff anyway.”

“Cheer up Felix! I’ll try to find somewhere nice to go to the next town.”

“Oh, it’s you,” said a vaguely familiar voice. 

A fair maiden had stopped in front of them, flanked by several guards. Sylvain recognised her immediately- Larissa of Gideon. Pretty women and men entered and left his mind constantly, but he always remembered the ones who had the potential to hurt him and his friends. Despite what Ingrid and Felix thought, he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

Larissa of Gideon was a bit vicious and entitled. She was beautiful of course- she wouldn’t have caught his eye if she wasn’t. But that wasn’t enough to keep his interest. And when he rejected her, she showed her true colours. It was best to keep his distance.

“We’ll be out of your way, Lady Larissa,” he said cheerfully. He nudged Felix to walk around her.

She moved back into their path. “We haven’t talked in a while, Sylvain. Can’t you spare a word with your former intended?” she asked sweetly.

“I’m busy,” he said flatly.

She sneered at them. “What? Do you think you’re too good for me now? I heard you’ve been too _ busy _ rolling around in the hay with this harlot.” 

If she was even remotely a threat, he was sure he would’ve already ripped her throat out.

“Oi, watch where you’re going,” growled Felix. Ah, his sweet Felix was never one to back down from a challenge.

He watched her bristle at the insult. Well, he couldn't really let her get away with saying that. He resched forward and wrapped an arm around Felix.

“Felix, ignore her. You know you’re the only one I care about,” he said in a low, honeyed tone. He delighted in Felix’s blush and ignored his tenseness. 

Watching Larissa flinch at the brush-off, he felt a curl of heat from the satisfaction. 

She didn’t respond, probably too worked-up to do so.

Amused, Sylvain linked his arm to Felix’s and lead him away.

“One of your old conquests?” Felix asked once they were sufficiently far away enough.

Sylvain shook his head. “I never got very far with her. Our parents wanted us to court- and you know how I felt about that. She didn’t feel the same way though, and was pretty angry when we stopped negotiating with her family.”

“What happened?”

“Well, my parents sent that letter to your father… do I need to say the rest? It’s not like she cared. She sent letters demanding to see me and even showed up in Gautier a few times. At least she couldn’t convince my parents that she was a better match than you are.”

Felix’s brow wrinkled; Sylvain wanted to smooth it out with his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you fend her off.”

Other people thought Felix was cold and heartless- but he was truly soft and thoughtful to those he cared about. Sylvain was lucky enough to be one of those people.

“I didn’t want you to have to deal with the petty problems that I caused.”

“If you ask me, it’s your parent’s fault for wanting you to court that psycho in the first place. And don’t be a hypocrite and forget why we’re doing this. Didn’t you say you wanted people to get off your back about marrying? You should use me properly.”

Sylvain choked at his choice of words. “Uh… Felix-”

Felix removed his arm from Sylvain’s. “You know what I meant. There’s no point in doing this if we’re not both getting something out of this.”

“Yeah, I get that. I guess I didn’t want to bother you about something petty.” 

Well, it was partly the truth- there was also an intensely selfish desire to prevent Felix from meeting any of his exes, and the protective instinct that told him that Larissa was bad news. 

“Sylvain, I’m your friend. If you need help, you should ask.”

Sylvain laughed and strong-armed Felix into a one-armed hug. “Aw, Fe, that’s sweet of you to say. I always knew you cared.”

He could feel Felix struggling half-heartedly and grumbling into his shirt. He loosened his grip, but Felix didn't really try to step away.

Eventually, he settled down. His arms wound around Sylvain’s torso in an uncomfortable squeeze. It warmed Sylvain down to the cockles of his cold heart.

Then, Felix murmured into his chest. “I’m serious you know. I’ll follow wherever you need to go. Don’t leave me behind.”

Never, thought Sylvain. He’d never do that.

\--

Sylvain really did put in a lot of effort in wooing Felix- however, frustratingly, he never really picked up on the fact that these were not just a cover for their fake relationship, but romantic gestures in their own right.

A few weeks after his duel with Oswald, Sylvain decided to take Felix on a date that was so sickeningly sweet he'd have no choice but to think of Sylvain in a romantic manner. When he told Ingrid his plan, she had simply knocked him on the head, scolded him for his convoluted courting plan and told him to use his words instead. Sylvain was considering it. But he had a harder time being honest than Felix did, which was saying a lot.

“So… there’s something I want to show you,” said Sylvain, uncharacteristically nervous.

Felix’s mouth twitched into an approximation of a smile. “If it’s a terrible play, I’m not seeing it with you.”

Sylvain knew Felix did like those plays, despite everything he said. Felix liked the theatre and grand, epic tales. He just didn’t want to admit it to others, or truly let himself enjoy ‘frivolous’ things after his brother’s death.

Sylvain shook his head. “Nah, it’s something you’ll actually like.”

That earned a spark of interest in Felix’s eyes. Hook, line and sinker. “Are you going to actually tell me about it or are you going to keep me in the dark about it?” 

“It’s a surprise! Just meet me at my tent at dinnertime, you won’t regret it.”

“Hm, alright, we’ll see. If it’s disappointing, you’ll spar with me anytime I want in the next week.”

“Hey! You’ve already worked me to the bone these past two weeks. Give me a break, man.” Ah, truly, love was a cruel mistress. Or maybe he was just a masochist. It was hard to tell. 

“What? You don’t have any confidence in your ‘surprise’?” Felix asked, his voice in a teasing lilt. Why did he find that adorable?

“I do… ugh, fine but if you’re late, you’re going to see King Borian and the Knights of Terros with me.”

A true smile appeared on Felix's face at that. Ha! Sylvain knew he wanted to see that play! He’d drag him to go see it regardless then. 

“I suppose you have yourself a deal.”

\--

It was a bit of work to prepare it all; he picked out a basket, a soft blanket, and a selection of cold foods, including biscuits, fruit and sandwiches. He’d even tracked down a flask which kept water hot and made Almyran Pine Needle tea. 

When dinnertime came, he waited patiently at the entrance of his tent. It was usually a pretty busy time- nobles and commoners were buzzing around, trying to arrange dinner preparations. 

Oddly, there weren't many people around his tent.

Maybe it was better this way, he thought. It would be more romantic to walk around if they weren’t constantly bumping into people.

Hearing solid footsteps approaching him from behind, he turned towards them- but it wasn’t Felix. 

It was a vaguely familiar kingdom soldier. When he was about to ask them what they wanted, he felt someone tackle him from behind. It knocked the air out of his lungs. 

He stumbled forward, dropped the basket and struggled. The soldier grabbed him and helped his assailant hold him down. 

Shock clouded his thoughts, and he tried to shout, only to realise there was a cloth covering his mouth. 

The cloth carried a noxious smell. It rang alarm bells in his head, but he couldn’t throw his attackers off. After a few minutes, he felt woozy and lightheaded. Unable to keep his eyes open and losing strength in his legs, he fell forward.

And blacked out.


	9. Chapter 9

Felix didn’t think it was too strange that Sylvain was late at first. Before they had started their “courtship” Sylvain was never on time for anything. After ten minutes though… he certainly felt something was wrong. They were supposed to meet in front of Sylvain’s tent. He wasn’t inside- Felix had already checked. Where on earth could he be? 

Confusion turned to worry turned to panic over the course of an hour. A dark feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Did Sylvain stand him up? It would certainly not be the first time… but he’d been so insistent that Felix go out for a special dinner with him and seemed so excited. It didn't make sense for him to ditch him without a word.

Sylvain_ had _been acting pretty weirdly lately… but the main point of difference was how eager he was to spend time with Felix. He was a little clingy, which was honestly a little disconcerting. But Felix would be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

Waiting in front of his tent was obviously not going to magically summon Sylvain. He needed to search for him.

He fervently went to all the places that Sylvain liked to frequent, but to be honest, with the progress travelling in tents, there weren't many places that Sylvain regularly haunted. And he wasn't at _any _ of them.

After a few hours of looking and walking in between the same places and second-guessing himself- _ maybe he missed him? But that was impossible, he'd checked so many times_, he was at a loss.He really didn't know what to do- he needed help. 

There weren't many people he trusted currently on progress. His guard friends were probably on duty, and they weren't that close regardless. Besides, he wanted to avoid alerting their own personal guards and the authorities if he could. If word got back to the Gautiers… Sylvain would get more than an earful when they found him.

He made his way to the flying grounds, where he knew Ingrid had been spending her evenings, familiarising herself with wyverns. 

"Felix? What's wrong? I thought Sylvain took you out on a date."

He swallowed done the reflexive, 'It's not a date'. They had more pressing things to worry about.

"Sylvain's gone. I can't find him."

"What? Have you looked everywhere?"

"Of course I have!" He shouted. His voice echoed in the grounds.

Her eyes widened and she took a step back. "Felix… "

Felix inhaled sharply. His left hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword in an effort to ground himself. "Sorry. I'm just, I don't know what to do."

Ingrid smiled gently and patted him gently on the arm. “Felix, it’ll be alright, we'll find him.”

Between the two of them, they were sure they'd find Sylvain. They wandered around the camp and questioned everyone. When that proved fruitless, they wandered around the local town searching for him. 

The only lead was that a half an hour before he was supposed to meet with Felix, Sylvain had picked up a dinner he’d ordered from the camp kitchens. 

No one had really seen them since then. A few people had mentioned seeing him around his tent, but they were unable to give a precise time. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Felix knew he had to be fine. It was Sylvain, for goddess’ sake. The man was resilient like a cockroach.

He said as much too Ingrid and managed to coax a tired laugh out of her. “We should get some rest, Felix. If he doesn't appear soon, we can go to the guard at dawn.”

“What if he’s-”

“Felix we’ve looked everywhere… you won’t be much help if you passed out while looking for him. It’s late, it’ll just be a few hours.”

He didn’t want to admit it- but she was right. It was hours past midnight. Most of the guard was asleep. There was no one to question since everyone had retired to bed. It was easier to search during the daylight. Maybe Sylvain had just fallen into a ditch somewhere? He wouldn't put it past the clumsy idiot.

So he gave her a curt nod and walked away- towards Sylvain’s tent.

He told himself that it was fine because it was the place that Sylvain would go to first if he came back. But maybe that wasn’t entirely why he was there. 

He curled up on Sylvain’s bedroll, under his cloak, furs and blanket. Sylvain’s comforting scent surrounded him. It should have made him a little less alone, but it just made him more aware of Sylvain’s absence. The real deal was much better.

At that moment, he didn’t care if Sylvain would see him be so vulnerable- as long as he came back.

\--

As dawn broke, they went straight to the royal guard and informed them of Sylvain’s disappearance. He may be a trained knight, but he was still the heir of an important house. If he went missing during progress, that would be a stain on the guard’s record. The provost assured them they’d find Sylvain but Felix and Ingrid knew it was unlikely without any leads.

Felix and Ingrid spent the day questioning anyone they could get their hands on. No one knew anything. 

Ingrid had to physically restrain Felix a few times when people retorted that Sylvain deserved his disappearance. She herself would respond with glares and sharp words. 

“We’ve looked everywhere. He’s not at camp or in town… The progress leaves in a few days.”

There was a silent question.

“I’ll stay behind,” said Felix. “I won’t leave until we find him.” At this point, they were sure Sylvain wasn't with the progress. The royal guard would have to stay with the prince and regent. The Gautiers were likely to hire mercenaries and detectives to find him, but they wouldn't be able to make it down south very soon.

She looked at him in soft surprise. “Felix… you really do love him, don’t you?”

He gritted his teeth and looked away from her eyes. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

He wanted to say that he’d do the same if Ingrid herself disappeared, but the words jammed in his throat. He didn’t want to think about losing more important people in his life. And maybe he wasn’t entirely truthful. Ingrid disappearing would be bad, but it wouldn’t destroy him like Sylvain’s absence was.

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but other alphas he was acquainted with were constantly asked if he was fine- citing his extremely distressed scent. 

It was frustrating. Usually, he had a strong handle on his scent, emotions and pheromones. But his stress over Sylvain’s disappearance was truly all-consuming.

He spent another night in Sylvain’s tent, surrounded by his clothes. He was making a right mess of it but without a pile of his clothes, Felix would wake up in distress in the middle of the night over the scent fading from Sylvain’s pillow and blankets. It was so frustrating and irrational… but nothing else really felt right.

The morning after, he waited for Ingrid to finish a brief sky patrol- it was unlikely she’d find any clues, but they didn’t want to leave a single stone unturned.

Instead of waiting at the stables, he went out into the city centre. Who knows, maybe there was a clue that they missed on one of their ten searches of the town.

Then, he smelt it- a strangely familiar but spicy scent. It was_ Sylvain_, but not entirely. 

His eyes searched fervently until they landed on the carrier of the scent. She looked so familiar- ah. He should have known. Larissa of Gideon. 

She was leaving one of the town’s old inns and walking towards camp, flanked by a few of her guards. 

He checked the inn. The Silver Fawn- Ingrid and Felix had gone in and looked inside, asking the staff about Sylvain. He was so flashy that it was hard to forget him- but they were adamant that he wasn’t there.

Well. Perhaps there were lying. 

He walked into the Silver Fawn purposefully and slammed the door open. The barkeep looked up from his counter and went back to cleaning his glasses.

Felix ignored him. The proprietress of this inn was a little middle-aged lady. The last time he talked to her, she was very sharp and all-business, insisting that no red-haired young noblemen had visited her establishment in the last two days.

“Are you aware that you’re collaborating with a criminal?”

She smiled serenely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s a warrant out for her,” he said. He pulled out his knife and spun it through his fingers. “They say she’s a golddigger who’s kidnapped a young nobleman.” 

He stabbed the knife through the counter sharply and grinned. “His parents put out a hit on any of her collaborators.”

He saw the line of her shoulders and throat tense up. Satisfied, he slid her a pouch of coins. 

She hesitated until he nudged it towards her. 

“Show me where he is. No one has to know.”

Silently, she took the pouch, checked the contents and nodded.

\--

Felix could smell him. It was overwhelming.

Sylvain's everyday scent was not of anything he could adequately describe, but it reminded him of home, of winters spent in front of fireplaces and meals of honeyed fruit.

This new scent was vaguely familiar, but he'd never, ever smelt Sylvain like this before. 

It was intoxicating.

He wanted to move closer to him, to take in more of that scent- but there was a part of him that screamed _ no_.

There was more than that too- Sylvain had been stripped of his outer layers, which lingered around him in piles. He was sweaty and dishevelled. His eyes were unfocused and weary. 

“Sylvain- what happened?”

“Felix,” he croaked.

Despite his instincts, Felix lurched forward, desperately undoing the cap on his water flask. With unsteady hands, he helped Sylvain take long, hungry gulps. 

Being this close to him was too much. Sylvain’s unfocused eyes fixed upon his face. Clarity gradually returned to him. 

His hand reached out tentatively to Felix’s face. “I knew you’d come.”

Felix suppressed a flinch. Sylvain’s touch burned on his skin. He felt like he needed more. 

Oh, goddess, he thought. Sylvain was in rut.

He felt a shard of foreboding. He was burning up too- no, no, no, was Sylvain’s rut triggering his heat?

He needed to move them before it was too late. He had some time before his heat truly came- heats took a while to truly kick in, but Sylvain looked like he had been rutting for a while now, and had truly lost his coherence. He wasn’t going to leave him here, where Larissa would clearly take advantage of him. 

He refused.

One of his arms wrapped around Sylvain’s arms and the other settled around his torso. He tried to engage his core and haul him up, but saints, he was heavy and refused to budge. Sylvain simply lurched a little forward, falling into Felix.

“We need to go. Sylvain, stand up. Please.” 

He felt Sylvain’s nose and mouth in his hair. His breath was warm on his neck. Felix melted into his touch. 

“Don’t wanna go,” he slurred. “Want you.”

Felix felt himself bristle. He should have known that Sylvain’s pick-up lines would be spewed out on auto-pilot when he was dazed and horny.

“You’re in a rut. I’ll be surprised if you still said the same while conscious and sober.”

He tried to prod Sylvain into standing up, but he stubbornly clung to him and whined. Felix… did not know what to do. 

He was so absorbed in Sylvain's weight and warmth on him that he didn't sense anything else. Sylvain's presence was too overwhelming. 

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to barge in uninvited?”

Sylvain curled up protectively around him. Felix turned his head towards the intruder. 

Damn. Larissa was back. 

“What did you do to him?” he growled. 

Larissa giggled. “Oh, you know, nothing much. Just gave him a little gift to nudge his rut along. The poor boy had been suppressing it for a while.”

Sylvain had told him what ruts were like. They were shorter than heats but much more intense. Omega heats were partly an opportunity for Alphas to show that they were capable of taking care of their partners. Ruts were specifically for mating and not much else. Alphas generally could go years without having a single rut, only having to suppress when in the company of a compatible partner.

He growled at her. “You-”

“You’re getting in my way,” she said. “Get away from him”.

"You're a monster."

“You don't understand what it's like! You think you have it bad?” You're a sheltered, spoilt brat. I'm not going to wait for my parents to sell me off to some crusty old man."

"How is what you're doing any worse than what your parents want to do to you?"

She smiled, but her eyes were cold. "How can that compare? I'm beautiful and young. I have a crest. I'm skilled in management and maidencraft. He should be _vying _ for my hand. He doesn't know how lucky he is that I picked him."

"You're delusional," said Felix. "You could be the most beautiful woman in the world, but that doesn't change the fact that your heart is as black as coal. Sylvain wants to marry someone he could love."

"Oh, Felix," she said, sweet and saccharine. "You're such a fool. Can't you see? That's what I'm doing. Making him love me. He has to love me if we're bonded."

Felix thinks of Sylvain's parents and thinks that those words were very, very wrong. A lifebond could not create love- at most, it could create indifference by removing hate. 

“Lifebonds have nothing to do with love. Let us go or I’ll cut you down.”

“Are you so sure you’re in any condition to fight your way out? Felix, you’re going into heat. Won’t you be a dear and entertain my knights for me? They’re getting a little antsy waiting for me to have my way with Sylvain. He must be desperate.”

Hearing this, Sylvain looked up from Felix’s nape and growled at her.

She stepped back slowly. Alphas weren’t usually so hostile to omegas. There was no doubt that she felt disconcerted. 

As if sensing her fear, Sylvain lightly pushed away Felix and stood up. His hulking figure cast a terrible shadow. He lunged and tackled her. Larissa shrieked and flailed, falling back. He pinned her down and growled in her face.

His actions were so hostile that it was clear that he wasn’t letting her pheromones cloud his judgement.

Great, he thought. Felix struggled and got up and tried to haul Sylvain back. 

“Sylvain, we need to go.”

“No,” Sylvain rasped. “Fee, she wants to hurt you.” 

It was clear that he was letting his base instincts take over. It wouldn’t be long until he couldn’t distinguish between friend or foe… which was probably what Larissa was depending on in the beginning. He couldn’t let Sylvain do that to himself.

“Please,” pleaded Felix. “Listen to me.”

Sylvain looked briefly at Felix and closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. He drew himself up. 

Felix offered his hand.

He took it.


	10. Chapter 10

Sylvain woke up feeling like he’d been maced by a windmill. He ached all over and felt uncomfortably warm.

He immediately realised he was on an unfamiliar bed but was relieved that he was alone. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t remember how he got there. The only thing worse would be waking up next to a stranger.

He did know he smelled pretty terrible, like he’d worked out constantly without bathing for days. He walked over to the small privacy screen set up in the corner-- there was a basin inside, with a towel. He gingerly wiped himself down until he smelt fit for human company. 

He was hungry and thirsty-- he felt like he’d barely eaten the past few days. He drained the room’s water pitcher. When he came out to find food, he found Ingrid waiting for him.

“I see you’re awake,” she said as curtly as ever, with a prim little nod.

He rubbed his neck to cope with the awkwardness. “What happened to me?”

Her nose wrinkled. “You got kidnapped by a crazy omega and went into rut. The progress has left. I packed up your tent for you, your stuff is in your new room. You just left the inn’s rut holding room.”

He followed her to his new room and checked his pack. More than half of his clothes were missing.

“Ingrid, I know you hate how I dress, but throwing out all of my clothes is a little ridiculous.”

She smirked. “I didn’t throw them out.”

“Then where did they go?” He asked, exasperated.

She scrutinised him. “How much do you remember?”

“Honestly? Not much,” he said with a shrug.

“Well, for reasons I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain later, Felix is in heat.”

Wait…. What? It was too soon. Felix did smell like he was preparing for heats, but the development should have taken longer-- months, even.

She continued, “He decided to take your clothes to make a nest.”

“Oh,” said Sylvain.

“Yes,  _ oh _ . What, did you think you could get away with no consequences after courting an unbonded omega?”

He looked away from her. “That wasn’t my intention. I know he’s told you that none of this is supposed to be real.”

“I’m not blind, Sylvain,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’re conducting this huge farce to get him to accept your courtship. Manipulating him like that-- you really are low.”

“I didn’t lie,” he said. “I told him the truth, Ingrid. It’s a lie to throw off his suitors, and a lie to throw off my parents. But if he changes his mind and wants to make it real, I would say yes in a heartbeat.”

Ingrid shook her head. “You’re both fools then. You have to be blind if you can’t see that he cares for you, Sylvain. Be honest with each other. I don’t want you guys to get hurt.”

Sylvain laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I feel like I’ll scare him off the moment I reveal my intentions. He’ll think I’m like every other asshole alpha that’s been chasing after him.”

“Break it to him gently and genuinely, and I’ll bet he’ll warm up to the idea,” she said.

Sylvain wished it was that simple, but he’s been watching Felix chase of alphas, betas and other omegas for years and years. The last thing he wanted to do was misstep and lose his friendship. He’d be devastated if it came to that. He had to ply and cajole Felix into comfortable complacency before he even suggested his true feelings towards him.

At his silence, Ingrid smiled and shook her head. “Go rest up, you’ve had a trying week.”

\--

Sylvain settled into his rooms quickly and sat himself down to write a letter to his father, informing him of all the matters that had passed. He knew what his father would have suggested in relation to Felix, but he tried not to dwell on it much as the notion of anyone taking advantage of Felix during his heat angered him.

Once she had ensured that Sylvain and Felix were mostly fine, Ingrid set off to continue travelling with the rest of the progress.

She was the one who had reported Larissa to the prince and the regent themselves-- nobles were not usually judged in the common courts, which Sylvain personally found very classist. Dimitri had her arrested and held, planning to try her once they returned to Fhirdiad. Lord Gideon had been furious at the news-- but kidnapping and drugging a fellow noble was a serious offence. She couldn’t escape from that.

The experience curdled his thoughts on the progress. It was fine fun until the jealous nobles came out to play. If Felix told him that he wanted to return home immediately, Sylvain would gladly pack up his bags and escort him home. He’s sure that Rodrigue would have no complaints about it, and Sylvain’s own parents supported any of his endeavours to get into Felix’s good graces.

Felix’s heat only lasted a day after Sylvain’s rut ended. It was thankfully short for a first heat-- Sylvain had heard those were often the worst. Once the innkeeper’s wife told him it was fine for him to go up, he basically went up immediately with a platter of cut fruit, biscuits and Felix’s favourite pine needle tea. It was a far cry from the lovely picnic he had planned, but he figured dashing into your beloved’s room after a trying heat with snacks was a romantic move.

Felix frowned at the platter before him before picking up a pear slice and nibbling on it. 

Sylvain tried not to stare at the mess of a bed-- the nest was very well-made and it was regrettable that he’d have to disassemble it. Sylvain was sure that his clothes made up at least half of the nest’s bulk.

He tried even harder not to stare at Felix. He was dishevelled but lovely. His shirt lay on him as if he’d hastily put it on before opening the door, showing off his collarbone and neck. His long hair traitorously tried to escape its bounds. 

“How was your rut?” asked Felix. His voice was husky from days of disuse.

“Fine, I guess. I don’t remember much of it.”

“You seemed like you were practically dying when I dragged you out of Larissa’s clutches,” Felix said. The tips of his ears were pink though, and Sylvain didn’t know what to make of that.

“Thank you for that,” said Sylvain. He meant it. Marriage to someone like Larissa was one of his worst nightmares. He may have resigned himself to a loveless marriage before he embarked on this journey with Felix, but he had always hoped he would at least bond with someone kind.

Felix continued to nibble away at the fruit. “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” said Sylvain. “How was your heat? It was your first, right?”

“Terrible,” said Felix. His brows scrunched up. “I wanted to die.” 

“That bad?”

“Yeah,” said Felix, sounding a little small. He gathered up the blanket around him. “I felt alone and unsafe. And hot too-- I was burning up, but at the same time, I kept getting these weird chills. I couldn’t think straight.”

“Do you want a hug? It sounds like you do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Felix. 

“You don’t have to play tough guy with me, alright? I’m here to give you what you need.”

“Alright,” he said, scowling. “Just a bit. Because you’re insisting.”

“Sure thing,” said Sylvain. He immediately climbed up the bed. He knew it should have smelt a little terrible, considering the circumstances, but Felix’s natural scent made him feel comfortable anyway. He settled down so that Felix sat between his thighs. His own scent was probably leaking out a bit-- to his relief, it calmed down Felix a little. The tenseness of his muscles gradually left him as Sylvain continued to cuddle him.

“This is nice,” said Sylvain.

Felix snorted. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was no bite to his tone.


	11. Chapter 11

After hearing about the whole… situation, his father had no objections in letting Felix come home from the progress. Sylvain’s parents, of course, were enthusiastic about letting him accompany Felix back to Fraldarius. Anything to get him into Felix’s and the Duke’s good graces.

Instead of riding back most of the home, they decided to make use of their carriage. Felix didn’t want to make a fuss out of it-- it was just _ biology,_ and yet his heat had taken an irrefutably huge toll on his body. 

Sylvain had fussed and hovered like a concerned mother. Felix had to swat him away more than once. Even now, Felix was bundled up in his travelling coat, with Sylvain peeling fruit for him and offering him pieces like some concerned husband. It made Felix’s stomach do weird little loop de loops. 

Sylvain had been odd ever since Felix’s heat had abated. Was this the true power of omega pheromones? Could it really make any playboy settle down with an omega that they weren’t interested in? It was the only logical explanation, thought Felix. Unless Sylvain really did like him. 

He thought back to the very beginning of his heat, when he’d had to haul a rut-sick Sylvain out from that cellar and into a rut-hold room where he would be safe. Sylvain had pleaded with him and touched him softly, plied him with sweet nothings and mournful whines. Felix knew it was just the rut talking. Sylvain _couldn’t_ want him. 

His own heat was the same. More than the heat, more than the lust, he was consumed with deep and mournful loneliness. While he was still sober, he’d sent a messenger to Ingrid, telling her to bring his own and Sylvain’s things to the inn. He’d paid the innkeeper good money after he alerted the local authorities to Larissa, who he’d tied down in the cellar. 

He wasn’t proud of it, but he was satisfied with the little nest he had made from his own and Sylvain’s clothes. It made him feel like _his alpha _ was there. There was a weird, sort of base instinct that made him crave Sylvain’s presence. 

In a way, he knew that spending time with Sylvain was probably what brought on the heat. They were biologically compatible on some level, and more importantly, Felix trusted Sylvain. Maybe he was in denial about it, but Felix thought that the changes to his body were supposed to be slow. 

If Larissa hadn’t induced the rut on Sylvain, he doubted that he would have gone into heat until he’d return home, after the progress. He remembers berating an imaginary Sylvain during the worst throes of his heat for getting him into this mess. He’d felt a little better imagining Sylvain’s pitiful expression begging for his forgiveness.

If he’d known that Sylvain was going to _ actually _ follow him everywhere like a concerned and obedient puppy in an attempt to win his forgiveness, Felix would have not derived any satisfaction from that fantasy. 

Once they were at the Fraldarius estate, they wandered back into Felix’s quarters. Or at least they tried to.

It took only a glance from Rodrigue for him to decide that perhaps Sylvain would want to talk with him, hm? And he sent Felix off upstairs alone. 

He hoped that his father wouldn’t give Sylvain a hard time. It was a trying fortnight they’d just been dragged through. 

Once Sylvain came back up, he looked shaken but not too upset. He refused to tell Felix what the talk was about. Felix let it settle. Sylvain was never terribly good at keeping secrets from Felix. 

Sylvain spent the cooler months in Fraldarius. Sreng sent a few bandits to cross the border, but the warlords rarely planning invasions in winter. Warfare in the snow did not suit them well. 

Rodrigue sent many angry letters and threats to House Gideon, demanding retribution for his son. It was typical, Felix thought, that his father didn’t care if he lived or died, but put so much stock into his virtue. 

To distract him from his angstier thoughts, Sylvain often took Felix out. Hunting in the snow sucked almost as much as winter warfare, but it was a good way to cool down his head after a row with his father. 

“Do you ever wish you were just a commoner?” asked Sylvain once, on one of these trips. 

Felix stared at him. “Is that what buzzes around you head all day?”

Sylvain smiled charmingly as he lead Felix through the briars. “Sometimes it’s the only thing my head.”

“I don’t waste my time on what-ifs,” said Felix.

Sylvain had his back turned to Felix. He couldn’t see his face, but his voice was wistful and melancholic. “I wish were just normal people. We could do whatever we want, but instead of that, we have--”

“Responsibilities,” said Felix. He wasn’t a believer of chivalry. He was far from it. But he believed in a lord’s duty to protect their people. He didn’t believe he needed to get married or that he had a future siring or foaling heirs-- he believed in the power of his sword. If worse came to worse, he knew that he could ensure the estate was taken care of and leave to help people. 

“What, you never feel bitter about your lot in life?”

Felix shrugged. “I do. But if I want to leave, I’ll leave. I won’t waste time on those thoughts.”

Sylvain’s voice caught on his words. “See, that’s what I admire about you. You also seem like you know what you’re doing.”

“Sylvain?”

“Sometimes I wish I left. This life, my parents, my brother, myself-- I hate it all. Maybe if I was a different person… I would be worth something.”

Felix felt angry listening to him. It must have shown on his face because Sylvain spread a big, fake-looking smile on his own. 

“I’m being too serious aren’t I? You don’t want to hear me moping around while we’re supposed to be having a good time. Sorry for being a bore.”

Felix grabbed the fabric at Sylvain’s chest and hauled him down. “Stop _apologising _. You’re… worth so much as you are. If anyone tells you otherwise, I’ll kill them.”

Sylvain smiled genuinely at that and pressed his forehead against Felix’s. They were so close-- if he moved forever an inch, Felix could kiss him. But he couldn’t move, he felt rooted to that spot. 

At last, he felt Sylvain move away. He felt regret at losing that moment. 

“Thanks, Fe,” he said. But Felix wished he could do more to help him lift his spirits.

***

A fortnight into the Lone Moon, Sylvain, Ingrid and Felix prepared to make their way to Garreg Mach. They planned to arrive a few days before the school year started to ensure they’d be well-rested and ready for classes. 

Given the considerable distance between their Northern estates and the monastery, Sylvain and Felix stopped by Galatea to rest.

Ingrid joined them on their journey. It was a bit like old times when Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain would mess around in nearby forests. Glenn was usually too busy to spend time with them, and Dimitri was usually trapped in Fhirdiad. 

“Are you looking forward to this? It’s a year away from home,” said Ingrid.

Felix _ was _ looking forward to it. A year of honing his skills and getting stronger… a year away from his father sounded fantastic.

Sylvain looked wistful. Felix could guess what he was thinking. He was probably glad to be away from his family too. Felix couldn't blame him. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had time with Dimitri,” she said. “He was so busy during progress, I think we only spoke once or twice.”

Felix had endeavoured to avoid Dimitri all throughout the progress. It wasn’t hard; the prince was naturally busy. There were a few times he was almost cornered by him, but as if he knew of Felix’s distaste and distress, Sylvain was able to deftly steer Felix away from such encounters. 

He hadn’t talked to Dimitri in almost two years, ever since the rebellion was silenced. The boy he knew was long dead. 

“I don’t care what the boar does,” said Felix. “As long as he stays out of my way.”


	12. Chapter 12

The journey to Garreg Mach was pretty uneventful. Amusingly, Ingrid spent most of the trip giving Felix and Sylvain the stink eye and complaining loudly about feeling like a third wheel. Sylvain had spent most of the trip trying to cater to Felix's whims and wants. Not that he had many of them; Felix travelled like a well-trained soldier and rarely asked for anything. Sylvain did indulge him with his favourite tea in the mornings though. The way Felix’s eyes crinkled in pleasure as he drank his morning cup was worth Ingrid’s judgemental looks.

The monastery was exactly how he imagined it. The fortresses and castles in Faerghus were pretty drab. Even a holy place like Garreg Mach managed to outshine them. It was ironic, considering how he was taught that places of worship were supposed to be restrained and less ostentatious.

Felix kept to his word and didn’t really antagonise the prince. However, Dimitri didn’t seem to learn from his mistakes and kept trying to approach him. Sylvain knew Dimitri just wanted to rekindle their friendship, but he still stepped in whenever Dimitri bugged Felix too much. Felix… had a lot of things to process it was best to give him the time and space to do so. It didn’t help that Dimitri always seemed a bit more subdued and hurt after his arguments with Felix. Maybe some bridges couldn’t be mended, not even with time. 

A part of his was smug at the fact that Felix held Dimitri in very little esteem. Back when they were younger, before the tragedy… he was sure that Felix would be betrothed to Dimitri one day, with how they stuck together like glue. It didn’t matter that Dimitri wasn’t an alpha. Of course, things fell apart, as did their friendship. Maybe he was a terrible person since he was so glad that Felix wasn’t courting someone else. All he had to do now was make sure that Felix didn’t have eyes for anyone but him.

To his immense relief, his rooms were quite close to Felix’s. Now all he needed were excuses to go bother him. Perhaps he could leave his notes in Felix’s rooms after study dates, or maybe ‘forget’ pieces of clothing in his room. He could give him more gifts! Sylvain liked the idea of showering Felix with gifts and peppering Felix’s rooms with his scent.

Felix quite predictably claimed the training grounds as his new favourite place, which meant Sylvain inevitably spent much of his time there too. Felix compromised and would often spend his evenings studying or playing board games with Sylvain. 

The new professor was a bit of a puzzle. Sylvain meticulously sculpted his persona so he seemed like an airhead, but that didn’t mean he actually  _ liked _ things being out of his control. Byleth was unpredictable and harsh, but also supportive and kind. Of course, as a skilled warrior, they caught Felix’s eye immediately, much to Sylvain’s chagrin. It was hard to be jealous when Felix was so exuberant about challenging the academy’s professors to spar. 

Life was pretty good. He never needed excuses to spend time with Felix. All of his old friends were nearby, and he was able to make the acquaintance of so many different, interesting people. 

Studying was a bore, but he would be lying if he said that absolutely everything he learnt was useless. Some of it did spark his interest-- he always did enjoy strategy games, so learning about warfare and logistics wasn’t a complete waste of time. And despite how much he disliked combat, he did like the idea of being able to fight alongside and protect Felix. The idea of Felix surpassing him and moving out of his reach… was tough to swallow. 

After their first outing where they were assigned to kill bandits, Sylvain started having nightmares. They only got worse after they sent out to quash the mutiny in the west-- killing villagers and ordinary civilians didn’t sit right with him. 

What made it worse was that on their last mission, Felix had gotten sniped in the shoulder and taken out of commission for the next month. 

In the heat of the battle, Felix had demanded that Mercedes heal him so he could continue to fight. Mercedes had reluctantly agreed given the numbers disadvantage their squadron had against the enemy. However, Felix ended up overextending himself which lead to him needing even more time to completely heal. He probably would have pushed himself to continue training if Professor Manuela had warned him that continuing to train with an injury like that could permanently limit his range of movement and negatively affect his skill with a sword.

Felix might have been sentenced a couple of weeks of boredom, but Sylvain was now bombarded with nightmares of not only killing innocents but of Felix crying out in pain, bleeding out or left vulnerable to the enemy.

It lead to restless nights. He took to playing chess games by himself in the library. Occasionally Claude, the alliance’s mischievous leader or Hubert, Edelgard’s intimidating retainer would join him.

He thought he was being subtle about it until Felix confronted him after weeks of bed rest and ‘taking it easy’.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked. He sounded a little pissed off, but that was the norm, especially since he was cooped up for so long.

"I'm going to the library to study,” Sylvain said nonchalantly.

"You? Study? It's past midnight, Sylvain. Don't be ridiculous."

Sylvain sighed. He raised a hand to run through his hair as he thought of what to say. It was becoming frustratingly difficult to lie to Felix. "Alright, I couldn't sleep."

Felix sneered. "What were you really going to do? Hook up with some girl in the library?"

"I wouldn't do that, Fe."

"I've already told you that you can. Just don't flaunt it in my face," said Felix. Despite his non-judgemental words, his eyes avoided Sylvain's eyes and hunched in on himself in a subconscious attempt to reduce his presence.

Sylvain frowned and tried to approach Felix to comfort him, but Felix took a step back and angled his body to block him off. Just like a cat fending off a threat.

He suppressed a sigh. "Fe. Why would I find comfort in the arms of someone else when I'm being kept up by nightmares about you getting hurt?"

Felix's eyes snapped towards him then. Sylvain watched as his plush mouth parted in surprise. Sylvain desperately wanted lean downwards and cover his mouth with his.

"I-- you-- what? I can take care of myself, you shouldn't--"

"I know you can take care of yourself," said Sylvain. "But you're not invincible. I'm allowed to care about you."

"You're a fool," said Felix, but there was no heat in his words. He reached out to grab Sylvain's shirt gently to pull him closer. "Tell me where you were going."

Sylvain obediently stepped into Felix's space. He raised his hands to soothe Felix's arms, but Felix stubbornly remained tense. "I really was going to the library. When I can’t sleep, I play chess with myself. Sometimes I read. Fiction though, not textbooks or history. I usually stay there until I'm drowsy or the morning bell tolls."

Felix's eyes burned and his scowl returned; he was incensed. "So you have insomnia and you've chosen to do nothing about it?"

"Insomnia isn't easy to cure. It's not like I'm the only one having trouble sleeping. How many hours does Dimitri sleep a night? Don't lie to me and say you always stay obediently in your bed either.”

Felix seemed perturbed by the comment. His shoulders tensed up just like the wrinkles on his brow. “If you’re having trouble sleeping because you’re having nightmares about me getting hurt we can… we can just…” he trailed off, mumbling.

“We can what, Felix?”

Felix looked down at his feet, but Sylvain could tell he was blushing from the tips of his ears. He could hardly look away from him-- he watched him like a hawk to unearth his tells. For someone so grumpy, Felix sure did wear his heart on his sleeve.

“We could share a bed if you want,” Felix mumbled. Though he was no longer looking at his feet, Felix was still avoiding direct eye contact with him. The tips of his ears were red, probably from embarrassment. "I'd be there when you wake up."

Sylvain looked at him in feigned shock. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Gods, no!” exclaimed Felix. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t make this weird.”

Sylvain's heart softened. He loved picking on Felix, but he knew it was hard to get him to come out of his shell. He didn’t want to push him too much. There was no need to look a gift horse in the mouth. They had very recently passed a rut and a heat. There was no danger to this suggestion.

He smiled gently at Felix and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re really okay with it? It would be cruel of you to joke about this.”

Felix scoffed. “Cruel?”

Sylvain put his mask of false bravado back on. “Of course it would be! Isn’t that the dream of most alphas? For their beloved to--”

Felix groaned, cutting Sylvain’s teasing tirade off. He turned around and opened his door. As he moved, Felix’s sleeping shirt slipped down his shoulder in an alluring manner. Sylvain tried not to stare. He walked quietly into his room. Sylvain hated to see him go, but he loved watching him leave.

Felix glanced back over his shoulder. “Get in, or else I’ll take it as a no.”

Sylvain immediately scuttled in, feeling warm at the judgmental insinuation of Felix’s arched brow at his eager entrance.

“So do you want me to strip or something?” asked Sylvain whilst trying to subtly tease Felix by lifting up the hem of his shirt.

Felix glanced at Sylvain’s loose white blouse and baggy slacks. “Isn’t that what you usually wear to bed?”

Sylvain shrugged. “It is, but I don’t want you to overheat if I’m wearing too much.”

Felix huffed quietly, but he wasn’t able to keep the amusement off of his face. “You’re such a big lug that laying next to me is going to make the bed too hot anyway. Keep your clothes on, loser.”

“If you say so,” Sylvain said.

Sylvain helped Felix blow out the candles before they got into bed. Felix settled by the side with a wall, curling up into a ball.

Sylvain examined him closely. Despite his offer, Felix didn’t seem too open with sharing the bed. Sylvain slipped under the covers, but he wasn’t able to get his entire body onto the mattress. The beds were small. He waited for Felix to get the hint and shuffle over, but even after waiting a few minutes, he did not budge.

Sighing, Sylvain slipped a hand on Felix’s hip, ignoring the tiny flinch at the point of contact. He leaned down towards Felix’s ear. “Fe, you need to move over. Unless you want me to sleep on the floor. Which is fine, y’know? But you need to tell me.”

Felix turned his face around from the wall. Sylvain could barely make out his fine features in the moonlight. His eyes were heavily lidded. “Give me a moment.”

Felix hesitatingly moved over a bit and uncurled his legs. Sylvain got in and laid down properly, deciding to face the edge of the bed instead. There was no need to cause any bodily accidents if he could help it. Slowly, surrounded by Felix’s pleased, comforting scent, he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, Sylvain woke up again with a jerk. Blearily, he opened his eyes and looked around the darkness of the room. Just the same old wooden ceiling and the same moonlight trickling through the narrow windows, he noted with a sigh of relief.

Another night, another nightmare.

His arm felt heavier than usual-- the blood circulation was definitely off. He looked to the side; sure enough, Felix was curled into his side, lying on his arm. The very faint moonlight illuminated his fine, lovely features. Sylvain’s fingers itched to reach out and move Felix’s hair out of his face. 

If only there was a way he could preserve this moment forever, he thought. 

Due to the disturbance of Sylvain’s movements, Felix let out a soft whine in his sleep and wriggled closer to him, slighting digging into his arm with his cheek. After a moment, he moved closer, resting his face on Sylvain’s chest, arm slung across Sylvain’s body like some kind of abstract claim that had Sylvain feeling warm and giddy. 

Sylvain tried to remain perfectly still. Just because he was awake didn’t mean that Felix had to suffer too. 

Felix was right, though. It soothed him to be so close to him. Felix's scent was relaxing, with fresh undertones that were absent when he was awake. His scent wasn't the only thing that grounded him though. Felix's physical presence in the aftermath of nightmares about him being wounded, bleeding out on the battlefield… there was nothing quite as reassuring.

Privately, he knew there was a risk he would become accustomed to this and would be unable to sleep without Felix by his side. He couldn’t monopolise Felix like that. They were only in the first stage of courtship, so bed-sharing was highly improper. He knew Felix wouldn’t care about the rumours, but Sylvain wouldn’t allow anyone to spread negative rumours about his beloved. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet, anguished noises that left Felix’s throat.

"Syl…" Felix whimpered into Sylvain’s chest. The tiny noise of distress tugged at the panic in Sylvain’s heart. “Don’t leave…” 

He never really seen Felix be vulnerable. He was always so-- untouchable. Immaculate, despite all of the trials and tribulations he had to constantly wade through. He’d seen Felix cry once, a long time ago, when he found out his brother was dead. When he had cut off his friendship with Dimitri, he’d been cold. Callous. 

Sylvain tried to comfort him softly, unsure of how to do so without disturbing Felix further. He stroked Felix’s back gently with his other arm. It seemed to work-- Felix melted further into him, the tense lines of his shoulders seemed to settle. His whimpers didn’t stop, though. 

Sylvain felt at a loss. He hadn't considered the possibility that maybe Felix was having nightmares about him too. 

It made sense, considering the risks he regularly took into battle. Sylvain was one of their only frontliners with good mobility-- he’d often act as bait and was usually sent to take out threats who were further away. It came with risks. 

He was accustomed to Felix’s lectures on his perilous behaviour and his insistence that Sylvain put more hours into training, lest he falls behind and let his martial prowess rust and wither away. He would always cap off his tirades by saying that he only wanted him to train for his own good, that he was worried about Sylvain being defeated because he was out of practice. He had assumed that Felix was just being naggy out of habit. He hadn’t realised that his fretting stemmed from true fear.

He lowered his mouth to Felix’s forehead and kissed him gently. He knew Felix would not remember this, but he made a silent vow-- he would not make Felix live on without him. 

“It’s okay, Fe,” he whispered. “I’m here”.

Slowly but surely, Felix settled. Sylvain listened to the sounds of crickets chirping throughout the night until he fell asleep again.

***

Felix’s father had pulled him aside for a talk the moment they got back from the progress. Doubtless, he’d gotten numerous accounts of what had happened. The whole incident was a mess. 

When Rodrigue had singled Sylvain out for a one-on-one talk, Sylvain had approached him with trepidation. In a traditional sense, as the alpha, Sylvain was supposed to be the one protecting Felix, not the other way around. In the end, though, Felix did not need his help-- not even close. 

He was the one that put Felix in danger.

He’d said so to Rodrigue, and apologised profusely. Rodrigue had accepted his apologies easily, brushing the matter off. 

Instead, he took Sylvain by the arm and asked, “Do you love my son?”

Shocked, Sylvain had dumbly, numbly answered, “Yes.”

Rodrigue has smiled in satisfaction and let him go. “Your old man owes me money. He said you were  _ fond _ of Felix. I knew it couldn’t end at that.”

“Sir?”

Sylvain stared at the man, certain that there was more to this.

Rodrigue shook his head. He stepped back, appraising Sylvain with a stern eye. “I’m asking you now, and I’m only asking you once. Did you mean it, when you said you wanted to be with Felix forever? Or were those just pretty words to fool an old man?”

Sylvain looked at him with utter confusion. “I meant it more than anything. But where is this--”

“I’ve read the letters that Felix has sent me, and my people have told me good things. Your behaviour has been satisfactory. Felix is my only son. Barring the safety of the kingdom and his highness, there is nothing more that I want than for him to marry for love-- to someone who will cherish and respect him.”

_ Marriage _ . 

Here, Sylvain was worried about just getting the second stage of courtship, and Lord Rodrigue was talking about  _ marriage _ . 

“With all due respect, my lord, Felix is the one who will decide who he marries,” he managed to say. He clenched his jaw in subdued anger and said nothing more.

Rodrigue watching him with an approving glint in his eye. “That I am fully aware of. Make no mistake, I care for my son. I cannot control him, and at this point, I do not seek to. But if I am able to influence his future in any positive way, I am willing to take that chance. He cares about you. If you feel the same way, I’ll give you my blessing.”

“You think he would agree to marry me? We’ve barely started courting,” Sylvain defended. He wasn’t so sure that Felix even wanted to marry. It had always seemed like he wanted to be an unbound warrior, regardless of whatever romantic feelings he had.

“I think we all know that your courtship is a formality. You’ve known each other for long enough. I’m not trying to pressure you. I am merely informing you that should you both wish it, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you may marry,” Rodrigue said. He continued, amused, “No matter how much your parents ask for in the dowry.”

“I, thank you,” stammered Sylvain. 

He knew that Felix and Rodrigue did not get along well, but they did care about each other, as referenced by their letters and grudging compliments to each other. Felix would probably be upset if he knew the exact contents of this talk but it was reassuring to know that their relationship did have support. Syvalin’s parents were keen on this match, but only until a more suitable one appeared-- Felix was their dream spouse for Sylvain in terms of biology, but his parents had made it no secret that political maneuverability and wealth were also important to them. Fraldarius had nothing new to offer Gautier in terms of treaties-- they’d signed theirs years and years ago. Fraldarius was rich, yes, but Felix wasn’t marrying into their family, per se, so there was really no need for him to have a considerable dowry.

Rodrigue hummed, pleased. “Go along now, I expect that he feels anxious about being apart from you for this long. I heard you’re practically inseparable.”

Sylvain blushed and fidgeted with his overcoat. Felix had used it as a blanket the day before, so the collar smelled vaguely of him. “That’s not true. He’s still obsessed with his training and I know better than to stick around when he’s on a date with his sword.”

Rodrigue chuckled. “We’re all allowed multiple loves. You must forgive him of that.”

Sylvain smiled, finally. “I knew what I was getting into. It’s a part of his charm.”

“Just like his mother, really. She was inseparable from her sword,” Rodrigue mused. He had a far-off look in his eye. “Don’t leave anything to regret, son. Treasure what you have now.”

Solemnly, Sylvain promised, “I will.”


	13. Chapter 13

Felix knew Sylvain had never gotten along with his brother.

How could he? Miklan hated Sylvain’s crest. He hated Sylvain’s looks, personality, identity-- his everything. He hated how Sylvain was beloved by their parents and he despised the servants who were fond of him and the various daughters of noblemen who paraded in front of him. As a child and then a teenager, Felix had heard Miklan say terrible things about Sylvain, calling him a whore, an insatiable monster. At the time, Sylvain was just a boy. He was blameless.

Hehad heard things. Sylvain had confessed, once, after a particularly bad nightmare that Miklan had pushed him into a well once, in the winter. Felix remembered. He remembered the incandescent rage which lit up within him at that confession.

But he never thought that Sylvain would have to kill his own brother. Nor did he think that Miklam would be cursed to turn into a mindless monster. 

A priest had approached Sylvain in the monastery, when he had returned from the mission-- from burying his brother, and told him that his brother had paid for his sins and that his soul would find rest. Sylvain had said nothing, but Felix had to hold himself but from punching the man.

Sylvain looked tired.

Why did Miklan get to pass on into peace when Sylvain had to stay behind and weather the consequences? Once again, Sylvain was left to pick up the pieces, to fix the mess that Miklan left behind. 

If Miklan had ‘paid the price for his sins’, did that mean that every crime he had committed against Sylvain was absolved?

Sylvain remained silent on the matter; his whole being was sombre and quiet. He would still insist on spending time with Felix, but instead of doing anything productive, they would sit under trees in the gardens, and whittled away the time. Felix spent many hours that first week holding listening to Sylvain’s rambling spiels about nothing, humouring him by playing board games into the night and accompanying him and Dedue in the greenhouse, tending to the flowers. 

He would usually object to spending so much time away from the training grounds, but he couldn’t find the heart to. Felix knew what it was like to lose a brother. In Sylvain’s case, he wasn’t just mourning Miklan, but also the potential of the loving brother he never had. Sylvain, for all of his bull-headedness and cynicism, was an optimist and a dreamer. 

A week after Miklan's death, Sylvain seemed to have gone back to normal. He’d started joking around again, and stopped hanging around Felix like a leech. The lance of ruin remained in his room. He didn't touch it. It just lay in his room, a disconcerting reminder of his duties and responsibilities. Felix didn’t like it; sometimes it would wriggle when he looked at it. It was enough to make him shudder.

It still didn’t seem _ right _. But then again, it had taken Felix so long to even accept that his brother was dead. His own mourning processes were… unorthodox. It wasn’t a sustainable idea for him to expect Sylvain to just be magically okay. 

He didn’t want to bring it up. Sylvain would avoid any and all conversations relating to his brother’s death. Felix had thought that perhaps, with time, Sylvain would talk about it himself. He did not. He was just bottling it up, letting it build and rise and crash, as if he expected his shadows to dissipate like seafoam from a dead wave on the sand.

Felix could relate; it wasn’t so different to what he did with his grief, except his grief always grew too great and raw to stopper in a bottle; it always escaped and made itself known through verbal barbs and physical battles. 

But Sylvain’s didn’t. It just simmered just under the surface. He’d masked over it with a smile, just-so, and went on with his days. Maybe time dulled the pain. Felix doubted it. Sylvain had a bad habit of hiding the true extent of what troubled him.

Felix had a feeling that if he did nothing, he’d had to deal with Sylvain being haunted by this forever. Unaddressed trauma didn’t get better with time. He knew that better than anyone.

“You look tired,” Felix commented, a few weeks after Miklan’s death. They were playing chess in the library; Linhardt had disappeared hours earlier, muttering something about a sewer, and Ashe, Annette and Ingrid had moved their bookclub to Claude’s room once they discovered his fondness for reading. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Sylvain admitted. 

“Have you been able to get any decent sleep this past week?”

Sylvain didn’t say a word and chose to avoid Felix’s stare.

Felix sighed. “Don’t be stubborn. Just come to my room again. It’ll be embarrassing if you pass out on the training grounds.”

“I doubt it would come to that,” said Sylvain with a hoarse laugh. 

“You didn’t have a problem with it before we left for last month’s mission,” Felix said.

Sylvain looked at him, shock plainly written on his face. His brow was pinched. “Low blow, Fe.”

“Is it? You’re the one pushing me away.”

“How have I been pushing you away if all I’ve been doing is spend time with you?”

“Then answer me honestly; have you said a word about how you really feel about your brother’s death? Because it just seems like you’re doing what you can to trick us into thinking you’re fine. But you’re not.”

“So you’re angry because I’m upset?” Sylvain asked; his voice sounded wounded. 

“No. I’m pissed off because you can’t trust me enough to be yourself around me. Aren’t we friends?”

“Of course we are,” Sylvain said, frustrated. 

“_ Then talk to me _.”

“Felix. What did you want me to say? That I hate myself because I’m enough of a monster to kill my brother without hesitation? Or that I hate how I still felt upset afterwards, even though he was a piece of shit? Or because I _ know _it’s my fault he was like that. If I had been him, I would have been just as vile— ”

“You wouldn’t have been,” Felix said, resolute. “You’re a bitter, mean, careless person. But you wouldn’t have hurt a child like he did, or intentionally hurt innocent people like he did.”

“Did you forget all of those girls I played with?”

“I’m not saying that’s forgivable. Because I _don’t_ think it is. But explain to me how that’s on the same level as anything your brother has done. You’re a manchild, and you lash out when you feel like you’ve been wronged. But you also try to support and lift up the people you think are truly good. I _ know _ you Sylvain. You have the potential to be good, even if you aren’t right now.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” said Sylvain.

“I know it doesn’t. But if you keep going on this self-destructive cycle of self-hatred, what good are you going to do to anyone? You’ll just foolishly continue hurting other people. Yourself included.”

Sylvain shook his head. “You should take your own advice.”

Felix paused for a moment, and thought about his father, his brother, and Dimitri. “I would if I could.”

“We’re just two broken people, huh? We can’t do anything right.”

Felix shook his head. “I don’t plan on standing idly by as others make mistakes. I’m not going to allow you to wallow in your self-pity anymore.”

“Alright,” said Sylvain. “As long as you’re okay with me reigning you in whenever you start overworking. I don’t want to see you hurting yourself either.”

***

He had received a letter from his father— this was nothing special as his father sent a letter every moon. True to his character, his father had commiserated about how it was such a pity they hadn’t spent much time together before he had left the monastery for Fraldarius. The letter offered banal commentary about the current going-ons of the kingdom, particularly the political inaction and philandering of the regent. The letter also asked about the status quo at the monastery and the well-being of the boar. His father had finished off the letter with a simple question; 'How’s Sylvain? '

Felix had put the letter down then and thought about it. He had seen Sylvain talk to his father a few times now, and the contents of those conversations were mostly a mystery to him.

He looked over to his bed, where Sylvain was reading a book. Ashe had managed to convince him to join the book club. How foolish.

“I forgot to ask you earlier; what exactly did you and my old man talk about before we left for Fraldarius, and why does he keeping asking about you in his letters?”

Sylvain dropped his book on his face. Sputtering, he abruptly sat up. 

“Did your father… mention anything?”

“No.”

The relief was plain to see on his face. He leaned back against the wall and started reading again. “Then don’t worry about it.”

Felix stood up and marched over to the bed. He clambered onto the bed; it dipped under his weight. He leaned over Sylvain and grabbed the book. 

“Very funny,” he said wryly. “Talk.”

“It wasn’t anything important,” said Sylvain. “Just some of that standard omega-nonsense nobles love to talk about. He wanted me to keep an eye on you and help you fend off annoying alphas. I just figured you wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

Felix threw the book onto the bed. “Uh huh. That sounds likely. Try again.”

“He asked me if I wanted to marry you.”

“And what did you say?”

“Of course I said yes, isn’t that the point of this charade?” 

Felix watched his face carefully, searching for a hint of a lie. Well. He’d given Sylvain the chance to come clean; if he didn’t want to take that chance, Felix wasn’t going to make him. Felix moved back, giving Sylvain some breathing room

“I see. How are you going to tell him you’re no longer interested in me?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that,” Sylvain confessed. 

Felix froze. “What do you mean by that?”

“We’re not such a bad match-up, right? We could keep this going until we don’t have to anymore.”

Felix slammed his hands on the wall, on both sides of Sylvain’s head. Sylvain looked up at him— not fearfully, but anticipating. 

Felix lurched forward. “You coward,” he said hotly, before he captured Sylvain’s lips under him. He knew nothing about kissing, but he didn’t care. If Sylvain wasn’t going to use his words, then he wouldn’t either. The places where he touched him still felt warm and satisfying. Sylvain’s comforting, pleasing scent quickly filled Felix’s senses.

When they broke away, Sylvain leaned forward and rested his head on Felix’s chest and laughed.

“What tipped you off?”

“Nothing in particular,” Felix answered honestly. “A dozen little things. The way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you tolerate my temper. I _ know _ you, Sylvain. I knew you wanted me. What did my father really ask you?”

“He asked me if I loved you,” Sylvain said. Felix could feel his heart sinking, because Sylvain didn’t love him, no matter how he wanted him. He knew that. He _ knew _ that.

“What did you say?” Felix asked, his heart hammering in his ears.

“I told him I loved you.”

“You don’t. You’re lying.” 

Sylvain looked up at him, eyes bright and earnest. He glowed like the sun. "Felix, I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

"But you’re not _ in love _ with me,” Felix insisted.

Sylvain grinned wryly. “I am. But I didn't know how to bring it up. Felix, you push away so many alphas. I didn't want to be one of them. I thought at the very least we could be friends. You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I think I’ve heard you say those exact words to other omegas and girls before.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Even if you doubt my words and feelings, you can’t doubt our relationship, Felix.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Felix said.

Sylvain looked pained. He took Felix’s hands into his and gazed upon him softly. “Then I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone else. I’d give up everything for you if you wanted it. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. If you still want me, then I’ll stick with you until we die. Together.”

“You still remember that dumb promise, huh?”

“Fe, come on, don’t leave me hanging,” Sylvain whined.

Felix smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have to think about it,” he said.

But his heart sung _ yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A year later, in a muddy tent, camped out by the woods on the Fraldarius border and exhausted by the war, Felix looked at his fiancé, who was sleeping like a log wrapped up in a fleece travelling blanket.
> 
> His heart glowed as he reached out to him. "Sylvain," he said, plainly. "Let me in."
> 
> Sylvain rolled over and slung an arm over Felix, not caring about the snow in his hair and the dirt on his brow.
> 
> There, Felix muttered into his chest, muffled by worn-out fleece. "Love you."
> 
> Sylvain squeezed him tighter. "I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter at [Feroxai_](https://twitter.com/Feroxai_)
> 
> If you liked this, check out my other works :) I've written a lot of Sylvix ahahaha.


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